


A Life Earned

by Stormkpr



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Relationships, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, Post-Canon, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15632688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormkpr/pseuds/Stormkpr
Summary: Suddenly finding themselves in new surroundings, the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. will need to figure out how to get back home. Will Fitz and Simmons be separated again or finally have some time together? Fic is canon-compliant through Season 5, episode 12 with one exception. As the story begins, Season 5, episode 12 has just wrapped up and then something different has happened to the team. In terms of ships, the focus will be on FitzSimmons. The other canon ships (Philinda, Mackelena, and Bobbi/Hunter) are woven in, but they’re not the focus of the fic so I didn’t tag them. In addition to the FitzSimmons ship, the focus of this fic will be more on “team as family” as opposed to action and adventure. COMPLETE





	1. The First Week - Part A

**Author's Note:**

> As the description mentions, this fic is canon-compliant through Season 5, episode 12 with one exception: Yo-Yo has not lost her arms at this point. As the story begins, Season 5, episode 12 has just wrapped up and then something different has happened to the team.
> 
> Rating is Teen and Up and expected to stay that way; there is a chance that a later chapter or two will move up to Mature. If so, it will be marked and I’ll give readers an easy way to bypass that content if they want. The F bomb will be dropped once or twice.
> 
> A huge thank you to JaneDoh7 and LibbyWeasley for their beta-testing skills.

**The First Week – Part A**

Jemma Simmons paced the campsite. The weather was pleasantly cool with a gentle breeze. A few clouds obstructed the sun but the warm patches felt good on her skin. The ground, some sections covered by grass and some by dirt, was soft under her shoes. Jemma had become accustomed to the new surroundings, but she told herself that another walk around the area would be useful to again memorize the layout.

The center of the campsite held several spacious tents, large enough for a few people to stand up inside them. Also in the center of the site stood a long, wooden table covered by a tarp. Split, smooth logs served as chairs. Several fire pits and a rudimentary outdoor kitchen were nearby.

To the north was the trail that led to the village of the people who lived nearby. They called themselves the Khoji. A 30-40 minute walk at a brisk pace would take you there.

To the south was the pond. Its waters were clean and clear, and the muted sun was hitting it in the right way to cause a pleasant gleam.

The east led to a thick forest, dense and either beautiful or foreboding depending on your point of view. The showers and latrines were also in that general direction.

And the west pointed to the direction that Fitz had gone. Fitz, May, Mack, Yo-Yo, Hunter, Deke, Davis, and Piper had set out three days ago with a handful of Khoji functioning as their guides. The view would have been enchanting had it not reminded Jemma of the fact that Fitz was away – yet again she and the man she loved, the man who was now her husband, had been forcibly separated.

That left Jemma back at camp along with Coulson, Daisy, and Bobbi. Coulson wanted the bulk of the team on the scouting mission, with only those who absolutely had to be there left behind. Jemma was happy to remain behind and tend to Coulson, who was responding shockingly well to the treatment. Daisy had insisted upon staying with him too, as she was still absorbing the news of his sickness – and of his possible, eventual recovery.

Bobbi and Hunter had been at the camp – wherever this place was – far longer than the others. The Khoji respected Bobbi and Hunter, and thus Bobbi felt it was in the team’s best interest if she remained behind so she could liaison with the Khoji when needed. She and Hunter now spoke their language with some degree of fluency. The fact that Bobbi and Hunter had arrived here months ago and had acted heroically in the Khojis’ eyes had – thankfully – cemented the team’s place at this campsite as friends instead of foe.

As Jemma walked around the area and mulled over what Bobbi had explained to the team earlier, she felt the tall woman approach her.

“He will be back soon,” Bobbi said firmly, placing a hand on Jemma’s shoulder. “Stop worrying.”

Jemma took a deep breath. The air here was delicious, especially after what she had experienced in the Lighthouse. She wasn’t enjoying it right now though. Jemma turned and faced Bobbi. “I know. It’s just that – we had decided to never leave each other’s sides again.”

Bobbi nodded. “You couldn’t have predicted this; you couldn’t have known that you’d end up here. Hunter and I certainly didn’t see it coming.”

Jemma’s eyes darted around as Bobbi spoke. Having been here far longer, Bobbi felt grounded in the place but she understood why Jemma was having trouble settling in and seemed to constantly scan her surroundings.

Jemma’s eyes then focused back on Bobbi. She spoke quietly, as Coulson’s tent wasn’t far away. “I guess I must accept the fact that I just don’t agree with Coulson that a recon mission was even needed. You and Hunter have been here a while and made peace with the Khoji. You already know the lay of the land.”

Bobbi tilted her head. “I understand where Coulson’s coming from,” she said, her tone also soft since words carried further outside. “Hunter and I may have been here for a couple months, but Coulson hasn’t. You have a larger team here than just Hunter and me, so now we can cover more ground. Maybe there is something we missed, in terms of a way home. Coulson wants our team to scout out more territory and he wants to see it with his own eyes – well, or with May’s own eyes, since Coulson himself needs to rest.”

“Or did he just want to push May away?” Jemma asked with a hint of sourness in her voice.

Bobbi raised her eyebrows. Was Jemma angry at Coulson? No, Bobbi decided. Jemma was worried about Fitz and upset at having been separated from him. Understandable, Bobbi said to herself, given that their wedding had taken place just hours before the team had been forcibly transported here. Another cruel trick the universe had played on them.

“Maybe,” Bobbi said. “But regardless, this place isn’t that big. The team will be back in another day or two,” she added emphatically.

“Unless they encounter enemy tribes – or any other unwelcome surprises. The Khoji did say they have enemies,” Jemma insisted.

“But this is their territory and they scout it all the time. This area is as secure as can be. We can’t be as sure about the area outside the campsite, but I believe we’re safe. Even though Daisy and Yo-Yo don’t have their powers here, I still doubt that there’s much here that our team couldn’t handle.”

Both women heard footsteps; Daisy emerged from Coulson’s tent and approach them.

Bobbi again placed a hand on Jemma’s back. “They will be back soon. I know it.” She smirked and added, “I’ve tried to get rid of Hunter so many times but fate always seems to bring us back together despite our best efforts.”

Jemma let out a much-needed laugh at that, and Daisy was now in earshot and joined them.

“How’s Coulson?” Jemma asked, even though she had been checking on him numerous times a day.

“I want to believe what the Khoji say, that he will be fine. He certainly seems good, though tired,” Daisy said. Her voice sounded a bit throaty and raw, and her eyes were distant. “I just wish I had an explanation. For everything. For why we’re here and how they’re curing Coulson. I mean, I’ve gotten used to the fact that my life has been a non-stop pit of chaos since I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. But I still wish we had some answers.”

Jemma shook her head. “Not being able to analyze the situation is absolutely maddening!”

“You get used to it,” Bobbi insisted. “The rest of you haven’t been here long enough.” She then looked at Daisy and added, “I was just telling Simmons to stop worrying and that her husband and the others will be back soon enough. There’s not enough to do here other than worry about the away team and worry about Coulson - and that fact isn’t helping your mindset. So….I have an idea to take your mind off of things.”

Given Bobbi’s suddenly conspiratorial – even impish - tone, Jemma and Daisy exchanged a look. Bobbi then shrugged and grinned. “Let’s get you ready for your husband’s return. You’re newlyweds and you deserve to look special for him.”

“What did you have in mind?” Jemma asked. She forced herself to turn her thoughts away from the perplexing situation with Coulson’s recovery. In fact, she suddenly wanted very much to hear what Bobbi had to say.

“Well, for starters we can figure out what to do with your hair – the ponytail is nice for every day, but let’s see what we can do despite the fact that we have no styling products. Other than brushes. There are wildflowers we can pick – as long as, of course, we take just a few and leave most behind. The Khoji have pigments that they use for ceremonies; I have some and sometimes I use them for lipstick and blush.”

Daisy opened her mouth, but Bobbi cut her off, “Yes, yes, we know Fitz finds Simmons gorgeous even when she first gets out of bed and even if she were wearing a burlap sack – and, hell, even if she had mud smeared all over her face. But why not do something special? That brings me to my next thing. I have a dress! A gift from the Khoji. So how about you borrow it on the day Fitz returns?”

“A dress?” Jemma echoed, feeling even more delighted than she had been a moment ago at Bobbi’s redirection of her focus. Of course, Simmons’ logical side stepped right in. “Any dress that fits you will be far too long on me.”

“I’m guessing it will reach your ankles,” Bobbi said, surveying Jemma’s lower half. “It was short on me. We can always pin it if we need to.” Seeing Jemma nod, Bobbi continued, “So we’ll do something with your hair, we have a bit of makeup, we have a dress. And I have tweezers and will pluck your eyebrows.”

Jemma winced at that last sentence but didn’t object. And any reference to wearing a dress brought her back to her wedding. It almost felt like no sooner had she and Fitz changed back into their every day clothing before they and the others had been transported here.

“You’re just sore that you missed the wedding,” Daisy remarked at Bobbi, crossing her arms. She was bemused at Bobbi’s zeal for this topic.

Jemma wanted to figure out the mystery with Coulson – and with the team’s surroundings – but Bobbi’s plan appealed to her. Fitz always said – truthfully - that he was the more romantic of the two. Perhaps Jemma could show him that she had her own romantic side.

 

***

 

The team sent to scout the area had been blessed with good weather for the past few days. Hunter grumbled loudly over the fact that rain had been abundant before the rest of the team had been brought here, and that he and Bobbi had spent many days inside their tent, eating dried venison and dried apples, and wishing they could keep a decent fire going. However for the past few days, the team had experienced skies that were clear or partly cloudy, generally with a pleasant breeze which served to cool them down after a day of walking.

“We’ll make camp here,” Mack said, as the came upon a clearing. He looked at Hunter and nodded.

Hunter spoke with the Khoji who confirmed that they agreed with the plan. It had been a long day of walking and the sun would be setting soon.

Fitz was glad for the rest. He had been charged with mapmaking and navigation, no simple tasks given the rudimentary tools available to him. He liked the challenge though. No sense, he told himself, in wishing for all the tools back at the lab. He and Simmons could’ve spent years analyzing everything here from the soil under their feet to the stars in the sky. Well, he mused, perhaps they would indeed spend years analyzing everything if they failed to find a way home. They just wouldn’t have any of the advanced equipment they were used to.

The team soon got to work making camp. After several days out on this mission, they had found a rhythm to getting the chores done. Hunter coordinated with the Khoji, ensuring that the division of labor was respectful and would keep the agents on good terms with the Khoji. The fire was started and dinner begun.

Five tents were erected: one to be shared by Fitz and Hunter, one by Mack and Yo-Yo, the next by Deke and Davis, then May and Piper, and then the three Khoji men.

Fitz was largely quiet and contemplative during dinner, which had been the norm for him during this trip. As the team sat around the fire and ate, Hunter did the lion’s share of the talking, sharing his observations about this place given his experience here. The Khoji would occasionally chime in, Hunter would translate, Deke would run his mouth whenever possible, and usually by the time their anecdotes were over, Fitz was bone tired and would retire to his tent.

Tired or not, Fitz was grateful to be using his brain, to have a mission and a purpose. During his six months of hell inside the black ops prison, he too had had a project – but it was one he could not solve. At least here Fitz could successfully map out the land.

“You’re too quiet,” Hunter said as he entered the tent. He sealed the tent flap and prepared his sleeping bag, grateful to the Khoji for the supplies. The evening would be slightly cool, but the sleeping bags were warm so Hunter began to undress. He and Fitz had each worn hats during the day to protect their skin from the sun, and Hunter especially had been glad to discard his.

“If I’m quiet that’s more room for you to talk, yeah?” Fitz retorted.

“True enough.” Hunter said and then slid into his sleeping bag. “We’ll be back to the campsite in no time.”

“I know,” Fitz said quietly. He traced a finger across the wedding band on his left hand, still almost in disbelief that he and Jemma had tied the knot.

“I know you promised never to leave each other’s sides – and that Coulson’s orders shot that all to hell,” Hunter continued. “Of course he didn’t know that when he ordered this scouting mission. Bobbi and I don’t fully have the lay of the land here, but I think it’s safe here. You’ll be back with her soon.”

“I know.” Fitz turned his head in the direction of Hunter, although it was dark inside their tent. He tried to think of a way to say that he appreciated Hunter’s concern, a way that wouldn’t sound too syrupy. But Hunter spoke again before Fitz could.

“Although fate really does seem to be playing with you two, bringing you here right after your wedding. I remember when Bobbi and I were newlyweds,” Hunter began.

Fitz loved his friend but had to tune him out this time. He’d heard all the stories before. He knew, given Hunter and Bobbi’s subsequent divorce and reconciliation, that any anecdote taking place soon after their wedding would be full of Hunter wryly complaining about Bobbi, only to end the tale with an admission that he couldn’t live without her.

As Hunter droned on, Fitz felt a rush of gratitude. He was no longer inside that horrible prison. He could hear the wind outside. He was surrounded by his makeshift family. He hated that Jemma was not there, but reminded himself that in just a few days they would be reunited.

Those six months in the black ops prison had been torture. Before that, he had known physical pain, he had known heartache, fear, and loneliness. But the prison had brought it all to a new level. Every night on the bed, he had gripped the pillow and wished it were Jemma. He had replayed their conversations, remembered the sound of her voice and the touch of her hands. He had thought of her beautiful smile. He had wished he could share the progress of his research with her because he knew she would’ve uncovered solutions that he hadn’t been able to find.

He had eaten the rubbery prison food and remembered the sandwich that only Jemma could make for him. He had wished that his right shoulder were stiff and sore from the weight of Jemma’s head on it all night. And of course, he had remembered the way she tasted and how his tongue had run itself along every inch of her.

“Oh bollocks!” Hunter grumbled loudly, jolting Fitz out of his thoughts.

Sounds were coming from Mack and Yo-Yo’s tent. They were trying to be discreet but the tents were close together and sounds carried.

“Well, good for them,” Hunter muttered a minute later, apparently having changed his opinion of the situation. “And don’t worry, mate. I tell you, you’ll be back with her in a few days, and you’ll be keeping the rest of us up at night. You’ll have that wedding night.”

Fitz pretended to be asleep this time. He again felt twinges of real gratitude despite everything. He and Jemma had grabbed bits of time together once they had been reunited. A reunion in Voss’s lab on the zephyr, and of course later inside their room at the Lighthouse. It wasn’t as if he even had anything special planned for their wedding night. Well, not anything too special though Deke had secretly handed Fitz some silk flowers and hard candies he had acquired on his outdoor mission. They were all back at the Lighthouse of course; when the team had been transported here, they had come with nothing but the clothing on their backs.

“Bobbi’s probably talked to Jemma about birth control here,” Hunter added.

This topic piqued Fitz’s interest. “Oh yeah? What – uh, what do you think she’s said?”

“Well, mate, there isn’t any here!” Hunter said, exasperated. “Bobbi’s gathered from the Khoji women that they just track their cycles and that’s how they avoid pregnancy. Some of them hinted that they use sponges from the sea – but we’re nowhere near the damn sea, and Bobbi couldn’t find one of the mysterious sponges when she snooped around their village. So we have to avoid sex when Bobbi’s fertile. Which of course she will be in a few days when we get back! Just our goddamn luck.” He paused, “Well, we don’t have to avoid all forms of sex. There’s still all the oral things. And the back door, if you’re into that.”

Fitz was silent for a moment and then said, straightforwardly, “Ah, well, good to know. I figured that might be the case here. Didn’t think they had a pharmacy where you could purchase condoms or pills.”

Hunter yawned loudly. More noises came from Mack and Yo-Yo’s tent. “Well, mate, we should probably stop this line of discussion. I don’t want to get all riled up. G’night.”

“Good night.”

Fitz rolled over onto his side. He had a soft sleeping bag and pillow, and he had most of his team here with him. He just had to hope that their luck continued and their team made it safely back to camp --despite whatever threats were lurking in this alien land.


	2. The First Week - Part B

The First Week – Part B

 

Four Khoji approached the camp just as Jemma and Daisy were washing the breakfast dishes. Jemma, Daisy, Bobbi, and Coulson all rose to greet them. Jemma then watched as Bobbi spoke to the Khoji. She gathered that Bobbi was offering them tea, learned that her hunch was correct and the offer had been accepted, and reached for the chipped kettle to begin preparing it. Wild tea leaves grew abundantly here; the kettle – like most of their supplies – were gifts from the Khoji. As Jemma prepared the tea, she tried to comprehend the rest of the conversation between Bobbi and the Khoji but was unable to.

She served the tea to them and sat down with the others, as Bobbi continued to speak with the Khoji. Jemma observed that Coulson was doing better. He had more color back in his face and moved around with much more ease. How on earth were they healing him? Jemma wondered. She knew that plants had healing properties, of course. But she craved the details and specifics that she could ascertain only with a functioning semblance of a laboratory. 

The Khoji said something else; Bobbi perked up and caught Jemma’s eye. “The away team will be back the day after tomorrow,” Bobbi announced. 

Jemma absorbed those words. The days here were just slightly longer than 25 hours each, instead of 24.

Coulson shook his head. “I need to learn their smoke signal technique. It’s incredible.”

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to learn from them,” Daisy added. “A lot.” Then she said, “It will be really good to see the others and hear what they found.”

“Did they say anything else about the away team?” Jemma asked. She was unsure what information specifically could be communicated via smoke signals, but she also had to wonder if the Khoji had other means of communicating. She had learned over the past few years that almost nothing was out of the realm of possibility. For all the team knew perhaps the Khoji were telepaths. 

“They don’t know much else,” Bobbi answered. They continued to linger as they drank their tea. Jemma knew that she and the others would need to learn much, much more about the Khoji. In the confusion and disruption since the team had been transported here, their focus had been on ascertaining that the Khoji were indeed - as Bobbi and Hunter said - friends and not foe. Beyond that, any other information-gathering about them took a backseat to getting the lay of the land, finding a way home, and observing Coulson’s recovery. However, Bobbi had told her teammates many times that the Khoji never spoke much about their origins or their culture. She said their conversations were focused mainly around the necessities of survival such as food, hunting, farming, weather, and illness.

Jemma’s mind continued to dance around topics. She craved the routine she’d had for a few years. A routine that had been disrupted a hundred times, but usually had involved her heading into a lab for the day. Here, she had to learn to take things slowly. She knew that a conversation held over tea with the Khoji could, and likely would, last at least an hour. Well, there was nothing to do be done with it. This was their way, they had an alliance with Bobbi and Hunter, and this alliance provided the SHIELD agents with things like food and shelter, hunting gear, sleeping bags, basic medical supplies, and much more.

She caught Daisy glancing at her – Daisy’s eyes searching, full of concern. Jemma returned her friend’s look with another smile. There was no sense in rehashing the situation with Daisy or Bobbi, and she would not burden either woman with her worries. Either Fitz would return unharmed with the rest of the team, or something would happen. Jemma took a deep breath. Whatever came their way, they would handle it. They always did.

 

***  
The away team continued their march back towards the campsite. The temperature today had turned slightly cooler and Fitz was glad for his hat and the brisk pace of their walk. The sun mostly hid behind clouds today. When they had stopped for lunch, Fitz had eaten his quickly, wishing the team were back on the move so he could warm up.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Mack asked Hunter at one point. He kept his voice low but Fitz was just a step or two behind Hunter and heard it.

“Positive. I haven’t steered us wrong during this trip once, and neither have they,” Hunter replied, jerking his head in the direction of the Khoji.

Fitz had to give Hunter credit. Anyone might have been irritated at having their directional skills questioned at this point, but had Hunter been upset he was not showing it. Of course, Fitz knew, Hunter and Mack had always been close and were happy to be reunited.

“You’re right,” Mack said, his voice back at a normal range. “Guess I’m just worried. We’ve been here about six days now and we haven’t run into any LMDs or Kree or Hydra. I don’t know what to do with myself!”

“You just miss your shotgun axe,” Hunter quipped.

Fitz piped up, “It’s been too peaceful. We’re wondering when it will all go south.”

Hunter shook his head. “I know, I know. It took Bobbi and me a few weeks to feel normal here too. Or maybe it was the first few months. Just trust me; you will get used to this place and get used to not being in the middle of a fight or nursing an injury. There are worse things than sleeping under the stars or breathing clean air – or bathing in a lake.”

Mack grunted his agreement, and turned towards Fitz. “How are you holding up, Turbo?”

“Good,” Fitz answered straightforwardly. “Eager to see my wife.” He paused and broke out into a grin. “I just like calling her that.”

Suddenly Deke seemed to appear out of nowhere “Your eyes sparkle whenever you talk about her!”

Fitz and Mack exchanged a look. Both wanted to verbally smack Deke down for his comment (why was he so annoying?, Fitz asked himself for the hundredth time), despite the fact that it was obviously true. Hunter beat them to it. “Young and in love!” he said. “I wish it had been the case for me and Bobbi, but as soon as we got married, we couldn’t wait to divorce.”

“Yeah, that’s just weird,” Deke said, as Mack and Fitz laughed.

The group continued their walk. Although Hunter had at one point sardonically grumbled that looking at the green and brown of trees and bushes all day could get boring, Fitz’s eyes still feasted on it. He felt that each minute he spent outside served to replace the ugly, dingy views he’d experienced in the prison cell and then in the Lighthouse. He started to silently calculate how many hours it had been since the team had left the campsite, his brain enjoying playing with its perception of time and comparing it to the actual number of minutes, hours, and days. His brain then toyed with, again, its perception of how long it had been since he had seen Jemma. Six and a half days was the blink of an eye compared to so many of their other separations, and he understood that. Yet his experience with this gap of time could feel almost as painful as his experience remembering the gaps they had gone through in the past. 

“Careful, Fitz!” May cautioned, as Fitz stumbled over some stones on the pathway and nearly tripped. 

Fitz smiled at her and regained his footing. Her tone may have been its usual stern self – and clearly May wasn’t thrilled with being apart from Coulson and Daisy – but Fitz knew how much she cared about him. 

He resumed his thoughts of Jemma, while gently reminding himself to pay more attention to the trail. His thoughts turned towards thinking about Jemma’s hand on his cheek and neck, how she liked to touch him there as they pulled each other into a kiss. He decided that right now that was the touch he missed the most. How were her hands always so soft? He took his own hand to his cheek and rubbed it against the bristles. 

One more night until they reached the campsite. As they day ambled towards its end and the weather became ever cooler, Fitz resolved that no matter how chilly their water supply was the next morning, he would bathe. Either in the nearest body of water to their campsite, or via a sponge bath. He would ensure he looked appealing in Jemma’s eyes.

***

A handful of Khoji women sat at the campsite’s central table, smiling and giggling as they watched Jemma, Bobbi, and Daisy. Coulson sat with them, attempting to hold a language class but they weren’t having it right now. 

With Jemma having bathed and her eyebrows having been plucked, Bobbi was now working on her hair. They decided to pull the sides into braids, and link them in the back, with the rest of her hair cascading down. The appearance was along the lines of the style she’d had on her wedding day, though not an exact copy. The weather was not humid so the style should hold, assuming the team returned today. 

Bobbi had suggested that she put a few flowers in her hair, but Jemma vetoed that idea. Daisy had stood off to the side and said, “I thought you wanted to show Fitz that you have a romantic side.”

“I do, but flowers in the hair are a bit much. I’ll put them inside our tent instead,” Jemma had said, commandeering one of the pitchers and using it to hold the colorful bouquet. 

“There!” Bobbi said, as she secured the style with a band. Daisy handed Jemma the mirror, and Jemma nodded her approval. 

“Beautiful,” Jemma smiled. “Thank you.”

Jemma would don the dress and make-up at the last moment, when the away team made their approach; Bobbi warned that the pigment wouldn’t last too long, and no one wanted to get the dress dusty. Jemma had tried the dress on the day before, and as Bobbi had predicted, it reached her ankles. It was simple cotton, a pale blue color, with a scoop neckline.

Jemma tilted her head in the direction of the Khoji. “You’re certain they won’t mind my wearing the pigment?”

“Positive,” Bobbi answered. “I’ve worn it myself.” She shook her head, “It’s strange, but as Hunter and I said when you first got here, the Khoji truly don’t seem to care what we do here as long as we help them when they request it. This campsite is ours as long as we continue to assist them when they want.”

Jemma nodded as she looked at her hands. “I wish I had some nail polish. I like it every now and then.”

“The pigment won’t stay on nails – trust me, I’ve tried it,” Bobbi said. “At least your nails are clean. When we start assisting the Khoji with their harvest, they definitely won’t be!”

“Unless we find a way out of here before then,” Daisy added. She and Jemma exchanged a look. Bobbi’s face seemed to say ‘We won’t’, but she didn’t say anything. Jemma opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. 

Let’s see what the away team has found, Jemma thought as she decided to reserve further speculation about their future until then.

Jemma then joined the rest of the team in going about the day’s chores. A celebratory feast was being prepared in honor of the team’s return, so plenty of food needed to be prepared. Given that they liked Bobbi and Hunter and liked to celebrate, several Khoji were at the campsite, with more planning to arrive later. 

The Khoji’s favorite dessert was a creation involving oats, honey, nuts, and a dried fruit that Jemma couldn’t quite place but seemed to taste like raisins. Her mouth watered as she helped to shape them into balls. 

Daisy sat across from her as they worked. 

“Come on, you can talk about it again,” Daisy began, with a smile. 

Jemma chuckled. “How many times do you need to hear me say that I’m excited to see Fitz – I mean, my husband – again?”

“Just wanted to hear you say it,” Daisy shrugged. “I can tell, like, just from the look on your face. You even look like you have a bit of a blush on your cheeks, despite the fact that it’s cool out here – and you haven’t even put the make-up on yet. Well, you two deserve every bit of happiness.”

“I do feel a bit like a kid at Christmas. The day passes more slowly than it should as you wait for your present – but the excitement is always there, rumbling in your belly,” Jemma said. “Of course being with Fitz is far better than any of the presents I received as a child. He makes –“ She stopped herself and frowned. “How thoughtless of me, Daisy. You never had – “

Daisy cut her off with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine. There’s no ‘you can’t talk about your happy childhood around Daisy’ rule. I’m good. Besides, you - ” Daisy trailed off as she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

One of the Khoji approached Bobbi and was speaking rapidly. Bobbi turned to her teammates. “They will be here in about an hour or two,” she announced. 

Jemma felt her pulse quicken, and she stood up.

Bobbi looked at Jemma. “Let’s get that make-up and that dress on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued!


	3. The First Week - Part C

The First Week – Part C

 

They heard and smelled the campsite before they saw it. 

As Fitz walked in step with the other members of the away team, they gradually began to smell the aroma of roasting meat. A secondary, sweet and sugary scent wafted up as well. “I think they prepared a feast for us, mates!” Hunter exclaimed. 

“And hired a band?” Yo-Yo quipped.

Indeed, with each passing step, the team began to hear music. Drums were beat, and an instrument that sounded like a pan flute was being played.

“The Khoji keep it under wraps but every now and then they throw a party, and they throw a damn good one,” Hunter explained. 

“Welcoming the rest of their people – and us - back was reason enough, I guess,” Mack noted. 

Fitz continued to keep his pace with the rest of the team, although he truly wished to run; they were so close to the campsite. Another few moments and they would be within visual range.

As the drums continued to beat, Fitz’s heart started to pound. He had no logical reason to suspect that anything had gone wrong, but he and Simmons didn’t have the best track record either in terms of the universe playing games with them. He clutched the bouquet of wild flowers he had picked. The Khoji’s rules dictated that you could harvest any plant that grew wild, as long at least three from the same patch were left behind to grow. Fitz held an array of pink, red, and yellow blooms which he had bound together with a reed. He’d found the reed near the lake in which he’d bathed this morning. One of the flowers bore a resemblance to primrose; he’d been delighted to find it, remembering that it was one of Jemma’s favorites.

The stems were a bit damp now from the moisture of his hands.

Laughter could be heard coming from the camp, and Hunter told the team, “I think the Khoji also made their special brew!” Hunter then exchanged a few words with their Khoji guides, and they laughed in merriment. He and Bobbi had previously informed the group that the Khoji typically drank only water or tea, but that they did ferment alcohol which they drank on special occasions. Hunter had added that their booze was not too bad, though too sweet for his own liking.

Observing their laughter, Fitz started to feel better. Obviously the Khoji wouldn’t be having a celebration at S.H.I.E.L.D’s campsite if something had gone wrong. This knowledge put his mind at ease, although his heart rate continued to throb with the drums – this time with excitement alone instead of the previous combination of excitement and worry. Soon, Jemma would be in his arms. Soon his lips would be on hers.

“Just around this hill,” Hunter said. He picked up his pace and the rest of the group followed. 

Fitz blinked a few times as he rounded the bend. Coulson, Daisy, Bobbi, and Jemma all rose from seats around the cooking fires as the rest of the team approached. 

The time for restraint was over. Fitz and Jemma ran into each other’s arms.

***

Unlike the away team, the group back at camp hadn’t had as much notice as to when their peers were getting close – no telltale cooking scents or music heralded the away team’s approach. Jemma kept craning her head in the direction from which they expected the team. Then at one point, the Khoji seemed to know when they were close and had gestured at Bobbi.

“I think they’re here,” Bobbi said, standing up. Jemma, Daisy, and Coulson soon followed her lead. They couldn’t hear the team over the Khoji music, but a few telltale rustlings of bushes gave away their approach.

Jemma knew within a split second that she was not going to feign restraint despite the number of eyes watching them. As soon as she saw Fitz – who was walking towards the front of the group – she got up and ran into his arms.

Their lips met briefly and then they pulled each other into a tight hug. Jemma noted how hard and firm his body was; his prison workouts having changed his physique. He smelled of clean sweat and vaguely of….flowers? That’s right, her brain recalled, she had glimpsed him holding something colorful but had just been more eager to kiss and embrace him than to accept the flowers. 

“Oh, it’s so good to have you back,” she breathed. They often didn’t bother to say words that were obvious, but this time Jemma spoke partially, she realized, because she just wanted to hear his voice.

“I missed you,” he answered, his face nuzzled against her hair.

He pulled out of the hug to kiss her lips again. This kiss was much slower and longer. Their teammates were rushing around behind them, either heading towards the eating area or towards their tents to drop off gear but none of that activity registered for Jemma or Fitz. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “We’ve been cooking a….” she let her voice trail off as she saw he wanted to reply right away.

“I think it’s the worst cliché ever,” Fitz began, “but what I’m hungry for isn’t food.” He took a pointed look in the direction of their tent.

Jemma let out a breath. “We truly are psychically linked.” She then whispered something salacious into his ear, and slowly licked it.

Daisy observed them march towards their tent. “All of our work in getting Jemma ready, and I don’t think he even fucking noticed,” she muttered, to no one in particular (although Deke was standing annoyingly near her, literally hugging a tree). She then smiled, seeing Coulson and May finally embracing unapologetically. 

***

The tents at the campsite were much more well-appointed than the ones the away team carried with them. Each tent could fit several adults inside, and the bedding was raised slightly off the floor. No one had too many belongings, but there was plenty of storage room. Bobbi and Hunter had chairs and bedside tables inside their tent; the rest of the team, of course, would need time to construct rudimentary furniture – or time to labor for the Khoji so they could barter for them. 

Inside Fitz and Simmons’ tent, Fitz dropped the bag he’d brought on the mission and turned towards his wife. “You look beautiful. I brought you some flowers.”

“They’re lovely,” she said, taking them in hand and placing them inside the pitcher with the ones she had picked. “Oh, this one reminds me of the primrose I used to grow! We don’t have one like it near camp.”

Fitz smiled at her appreciation of the bouquet. The drumbeats from the celebration outside could be heard in the background, along with the sounds of merriment.

Jemma then reached back for him and helped him divest himself of his hat and jacket. “I need to mention that I’m ovulating now,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I know,” he responded.

“You do? I mean, I know we joke about being psychically linked but how would—“ She broke off. “Oh. Simple maths. Of course.”

He knew when she had been menstruating, he knew how many days had passed since then, and although Biology was her area, he knew enough about this general subject.

“Hunter and I had a discussion about it in our tent,” Fitz added.

“You and Hunter had a discussion about my menstrual cycle?” Jemma quipped, and they both laughed.

“No, about our lack of birth control,” Fitz answered.

“Ah. Bobbi and I have also had some very interesting discussions along those lines too. I learned perhaps a tad more than I needed to.” Jemma kissed his mouth quickly, and then tugged at his shirt.

“So impatient,” he chided quietly. “I do like this dress,” he added, once his shirt was discarded. He placed a few kisses on her collarbone and neck area, which the scoop-neck dress left bare.

“I didn’t tell Bobbi about our special super-power though,” Jemma teased, enjoying his kisses.

“Which one are you referring to? The one where I am able to go down on you for hours?”

“Well, there’s that one. I meant the fact that we are the only people apart from porn stars who can actually do 69 – and enjoy it.”

Fitz laughed. “That is true. I, too, kept quiet while Hunter gave me too much information. Well, ovulation be damned!” He then quickly added, “I – I mean, not really; where would we be without it?” 

He raised his eyebrows and stepped back. “The dress is, uh, lovely, but why is it still on your body?” He ran a hand along her bust line, feeling her breasts through the cotton of her dress. The fabric was thin enough that he could start to feel her nipples perk up.

“Now who is the impatient one?” Jemma smiled.

 

***

Fitz had once believed that they were cursed. Any objective bystander would have to admit that he and Simmons had been through enough strife for two lifetimes already. And here they were, once again in a strange land with not a shred of certainty about their future, not even able to explain how they had gotten here let alone whether they would ever return home.

And yet, Fitz was as content as a person could be. He and Jemma lay together under the covers, still naked. He was warm and slightly sleepy yet somehow also energized. His body was damp and yet comfortable. He was satiated, physically and mentally – and he knew Jemma was too. They didn’t talk much at this point. He knew Jemma was glad he was back, he knew she loved him, and he knew he didn’t need to say the words either unless he wanted to. They liked being handsy with each other, so their hands played together. One of Jemma’s feet reached out and tried to play with one of Fitz’s, but he felt that his toenails were in need of a trim so he didn’t take her up on that game.

“Your hair looks nice,” he murmured. “I meant to tell you.”

“It was fun getting ready to see you,” she said. “It built up the anticipation.” She ran her fingertips along his cheek and neck, enjoying the feel of the stubble. 

He captured her hand and pressed his lips against it, kissing each finger. 

“Do you think,” she began, her tone taking on a more serious note, “that we should discuss some of what we’ve been through lately? I mean, not discuss it right now, but someday soon? I know we’ve hardly had time to take a breath. Ever since we got to the lighthouse – I mean, since we got back to our time – I’ve wondered if we should sit down and talk about some of what we went through the past year.”

Fitz was silent for a moment. He had really been immersed in enjoying the sense of touch and resting his other senses, even letting his brain take a break. He wasn’t quite ready to go back to the place of rational thought. 

“I feel we have so little time together that when we are together, we don’t want to discuss…painful things,” he said quietly. 

“I know. I never want to ruin the time that we do have. But I suspect that we will be here – wherever this is – for a while. I think we should take some time to talk about everything we have been through. The last few days waiting for you here, I had less to do than I usually do; I had more time to think. We have been through a lifetime of trauma.”

“We have,” he admitted. “As you said, let’s not discuss it now. But soon.”

“Good,” Jemma said.

Although Fitz had wanted to stay as they were forever, his stomach mildly grumbled. “I wonder if there’s any food left.”

Jemma propped herself up on one arm. “I desperately need to use the bathroom.”

They grudgingly, slowly, got to their feet. Jemma searched for the dress which she had worn for all of two or three minutes in Fitz’s presence. They then returned to the world outside of their tent.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


	4. The First Year - Part A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning – The first part of this chapter went down a more erotic pathway than expected, so if that bothers you, you may want to skip the second half of the first scene.

 

**The First Year – Part A**

 

 

“Fitz, feel it! Right here!”

 

Jemma grasped her husband’s hand, and brought it to her belly. Her heartbeat accelerated with a mixture of excitement and joy.

 

“I don’t feel it yet,” Fitz whispered. He froze his hand and his facial expression in concentration.

 

“Now!” she said. “Baby’s moving!”

 

Fitz felt the movement. He then bolted up on the bed. Keeping his hand in place, he gently placed his head over Jemma’s abdominal area. He was a bit too awestruck to speak; he simply looked at his wife and saw, in the rays of light that entered their tent this morning, his look of delight mirrored in her face.

 

“I first felt it during the night,” Jemma whispered eagerly. “But I didn’t want to wake you since I know you’ve been so tired. I was too excited to go back to sleep. Then I saw you stir….”

 

Fitz placed a few kisses on her abdomen and then repositioned himself to kiss Jemma’s face. “First time feeling the baby move,” he breathed. “This all feels much more real now.” He paused and smiled. “I want to start to talk to baby more. And sing to baby.”  


“I would love nothing more for you to talk and sing to baby. All day long,” Jemma laughed. They had decided to refer to the baby as simply “baby” in lieu or “he” or “she” since they would have no way of knowing the gender until the baby was born. She then added, “Well, except when you’re working in the fields for the Khoji.”

 

“Which is most of the day,” Fitz said wryly.

 

He then moved into a sitting position and stretched his back and sides.

  
“How’s your back?” Jemma asked.

 

“It’s fine.” Fitz began to rub his right hand. “This hand’s gotten a few callouses though from the farming tools. I feel bad at how rough my hands are when I touch you.”

 

“Nonsense,” she said, reaching for his hands to kiss them. “I love the way they feel. I mean, I am going to soak them in that stuff we use for lotion again tonight, but I love them even when they are rough.”

 

“What about you?” he asked, loving the feeling of her lips on his hands. “How are you?”

 

“Good! Still no more nausea.”

 

“It’s been at least two weeks since the nausea, yeah?”

 

She nodded, and Fitz slowly climbed out of bed. He reached to assist his wife although she didn’t yet need it.

 

“Can you make it to the latrines or do you need to use the chamber pot?” he asked.

 

Bobbi had told them that they’d need a chamber pot inside their tent; being pregnant necessitated more bathroom trips especially during the night. The walk to the latrines just wasn’t always practical.

 

It turned out that the fact that the days here lasted more than 25 hours – rather than a flat 24 – rendered Jemma’s calculations off a bit. Adding in the fact that the fertility awareness method of birth control has never been the most reliable even under ideal circumstances, and both Jemma and Bobbi were now expecting. Bobbi was a few months further along than Jemma.

 

Elena was not pregnant, though it was anyone’s guess why not. She and Mack were using the same methods as the other couples to try to avoid pregnancy. Once Bobbi and then Jemma had gotten pregnant but Elena hadn’t – and living in such close quarters, there were absolutely no secrets – it was sometimes whispered that perhaps Elena simply was infertile. As for the other women on the team, neither Daisy nor Piper had taken a lover and although May shared a tent with Coulson, it was generally – and correctly - assumed that May’s childbearing years were behind her.

 

“I can make it,” Jemma said.

 

The couple slipped their sandals on, Fitz grabbed their toiletry bags and bucket, and Jemma reached to open their tent flap. Holding hands, they walked towards what the team now referred to as the bathroom. In addition to the latrines, outdoor showers had been rigged. Large bags of water were strung up and refilled; the sun heated the water during the day. Curtains were placed around the bags, and thus the team had a row of showers although some preferred to instead bathe in the nearby lake. Fitz silently reminded himself that his turn to refill the shower bags was today; he’d have to do it in the evening after the field work.

 

As they walked towards the bathroom, they passed Deke, Davis, and May working in the kitchen area, as it was their turn to prepare breakfast and do kitchen cleanup afterwards. Deke was telling a joke, May was scowling, while Davis seemed to find whatever Deke was saying hilarious.

 

“I still like it,” Jemma mused. “Living outdoors. Sometimes I feel like I spent a lifetime in the Lighthouse, never seeing the light of day.” She tilted her head up towards the sky in appreciation.

 

“Yeah. I will take this over prison any day,” Fitz agreed. He had told Jemma that while in prison, he typically was only allowed to leave his cell to share with his captors his theories on the team’s disappearance. Sporadically and without notice, Fitz would be offered “recreation” which consisted of two armed guards escorting him to a fenced-in area with a concrete floor. It had nowhere to sit, and had a roof with slats so that Fitz could look up and sometimes see the sun or clouds or feel raindrops. Sometimes he could feel a light breeze. The nicer guard kept his gun in its holster, but several of the guards kept their guns out and pointed at Fitz as if he were about to make himself disappear any second. The nicer guard would offer Fitz a cigarette which he always declined. The more hateful guards would speak in lewd detail about their recent sexual encounters (presumably done to remind Fitz of what he wasn’t experiencing), and then hustle Fitz back to his cell after 15 minutes.

 

Prior to arriving here - wherever here was – Fitz would’ve blocked that prison image from his mind and tried to focus on whatever task was at hand. But due to something that the team had been doing, he could not suppress it. Instead he held Jemma’s hand tighter and returned her questioning gaze.

 

“I’m okay,” he whispered, in answer to her silent question. After a pause he added, “Others have suffered far worse than I. You – you had to deal with –“

 

Jemma’s gaze became even more penetrating, and she tilted her head pointedly. The team had discussed this too: don’t compare suffering, don’t compare sorrow. Each person here has fought demons, each person here has to work through it.

 

But not right now, for Fitz. “Come on, let’s shower,” he said, as they had reached the bathroom area.

 

“Good morning, mates!” Hunter exclaimed, seeing their arrival. He was exiting one of the showers with a towel wrapped around his waist and sandals on his feet. Jemma was thankful that he at least had the towel on.

 

“You’re very chipper this morning,” she remarked at Hunter.

 

“Bobbi slept well last night. Which means that I slept well,” Hunter replied. He looked eager to return to his tent, so he kept walking in that direction, simply calling out, “Remember our children are going to marry each other!”

 

“Right,” Fitz called back. “Even if they’re both boys or both girls.”

 

“Hey. It’s 2018!” Hunter exclaimed, still heading in the direction of the tents. He then stopped for a moment and added, “Well, we think it is – we have no idea where or when we are. But yes, I’m all for it even if they are both boys or both girls, and no doubt Piper would approve too. See you later!” With that, he resumed his strut towards his tent.

 

“He certainly was eager to get back to his tent,” Jemma muttered.

 

Fitz and Simmons usually shared a shower stall – it was easier to shower with a friend in this format, plus Jemma had already said to Fitz that when she got bigger, she likely would need some help.

 

“Are we washing your hair today?” he asked. Then added, “We did it yesterday, right?”

 

“Right. So no need today,” she confirmed.

 

They began to bathe, using the hanging bag of water, washcloths, and the bucket. As he ran the washcloth along her backside, he thought of their conversations about how she would need more help when she was further along, and he relished the idea of helping her, of being her partner in his endeavor, of being so critical to her. Overcome with affection, Fitz started to kiss Jemma’s shoulders. And then, without thinking, almost as if he were simply obeying a command from his body, he brought a hand around front to cup her breasts.

 

“Mmmm, they’re bigger now,” Fitz whispered.   
  
“I know,” Jemma whispered back. “But be careful; they’re a little tender.”

 

His caresses took on an almost reverential timber. He kissed the back of her neck and said, “I hasten to add that I liked them just fine before.”

 

She giggled, “You’re allowed to like the fact that they’re bigger now. I certainly do.”

 

“You do?”

 

“Yes, well, mainly because I knew you would. If that’s not too much of a circular argument.” She then added, enjoying his hands on her, “You don’t need to be **that** gentle with them. Just be careful on the nipples.”

 

They both knew that this was not the right setting for what their bodies were telling them to do – the curtains didn’t provide much privacy and anyone could enter the shower area at any time - but hormones were powerful. Fitz had been so tired in the evenings after the farm work, but today he had energy after a full night’s sleep. Jemma was at the stage in her pregnancy where the nausea was gone, and she felt full and ripe and womanly. She reached one of his hands around and brought it right to her core. He started to stroke as she whispered, “You don’t need to be too gentle there.”

 

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice husky. His other hand steadied her hip against him, and she could feel him harden against her backside.

 

But then they heard footsteps. And then more footsteps; this was peak showering time. Jemma turned around, they exchanged a look, and then hurriedly finished washing up. They scrambled to wrap towels around themselves, gather their belongings, and slide their feet back into sandals.

 

Jemma led the way back to their tent, moving with speed and agility. The one advantage they knew they had now was that, as Jemma had put it once they realized she was indeed expecting, “We can certainly go at it like rabbits since I’m already pregnant!”

 

When they reached their tent, Jemma discarded the towel and dropped to her hands and knees. Fitz’s eyes were wide; he didn’t think his touches in the shower would have had that fast of an impact. Jemma, too, realized she may have been too fast. “Oh, are you ready?” she asked.

 

“Almost,” he admitted, blushing. The short walk back to their tent had cooled his loins a bit.

 

“Let me help you,” she said, repositioning herself to take him into her mouth.

 

A few quiet moans escaped Fitz’s mouth from what Jemma was doing to him. When he was ready, she resumed her position on all fours. “This position will work well when I’m bigger,” she said.

 

“I think it works well anytime,” he grinned. “Of course I like our spooning too you know.” Sliding inside of her, he reached his hand right around to find her clit. She pushed back at him with her hips as he rubbed her. They both fought to contain their groans and sighs, though they mostly lost that battle today.

 

They ended up missing breakfast, and it was soon time for Fitz to join everyone except Jemma and Bobbi for the walk to the Khoji’s camp. The Khoji had given the team so much and assisted them in so many ways that no one questioned the idea of working in the Khoji’s fields during peak season. Each day they worked entitled them to more food and other gifts from their allies, and further cemented the relationship.

 

“Come on, Fitz!” Daisy called. “The train’s leaving.” Most of the team was already walking single-file along the pathway. Hunter and Deke were straggling behind too, but at least had all their tools in hand. Coulson and May walked at the front of the line, both more fit and sturdy than they had been in a while.

 

“Coming!” Fitz called, as he reached for his hat. By midday, the sun would be strong. Jemma scrambled in the kitchen, wrapping a piece of flatbread and a fruit similar to a mango inside a knapsack.

 

“Your breakfast to go,” she said, handing him the food and his canteen full of tea. “Lunch will be better, I promise.”

 

He quickly kissed her mouth before heading out to catch up with the others. “Can’t wait! See you then.”

 

Jemma watched him depart on the trail towards the Khoji settlement, observing him and the others appear smaller as they faded into the distance. She then turned around to face Bobbi.

 

Bobbi shrugged. “Hunter and I did the same thing this morning,” she supplied, crossing her arms. Her belly was much larger than Jemma’s; Jemma was only just starting to show. “Gotta make use of every minute when you’re already pregnant and don’t need to worry about getting pregnant. Again.”

 

“I know,” Jemma sighed. “I just don’t know what we’ll do after the babies arrive!”

 

“Since we failed so spectacularly at preventing these pregnancies,” Bobbi stated the obvious. “And since we’re clearly not going home anytime soon.”

 

***

 

The Khoji didn’t allow pregnant women to do much farm work. Although much of their culture and habits were still a mystery, they seemed to respect women, which the team had always taken as a good sign. However, they did allow Bobbi and Jemma to make the walk from the S.H.I.E.L.D. camp to the Khoji farmland once a day, to bring their teammates lunch.

 

Jemma and Bobbi had fallen into a smooth rhythm; they knew from the position of the sun or their own internal clocks what time to begin preparing lunch and when they’d need to have it all packed up so they could head out.

 

Once the food was ready and packed into baskets, Jemma and Bobbi began the trek to the Khoji camp. Jemma liked the walk there. Even though the sun overhead was powerful, this place usually was blessed with a breeze that cooled the sweat on her forehead. As she had said to Fitz that morning, just the site of a blue sky and white clouds elevated her mood.

 

“It must be hard for you and Fitz,” Bobbi said as they walked. “Spending your days on manual labor and not using your brains the way you’re used to. You must be bored.”

 

“Well, actually – “ Jemma began but Bobbi cut her off.

 

“That’s right. I forgot about Fitz’s ideas.” Fitz had come up with a few ideas on how they could farm and harvest more efficiently. The Khoji already had it down to a science, but they had liked and implemented one of Fitz’s suggestions.

 

“And not to mention the flurry of activity right after we first got here,” Jemma added. “I’m glad to have a break from it now honestly.”

 

Back when the team had first arrived, once the away team had returned that first week with their “lay of the land” completed, the agents had spent every waking moment trying to figure out where they were, how they had gotten there, and how to get home. Coulson had soon recovered his health and, of course, pushed his team for answers. They tried everything. Each person replayed the moment they had been transported here. (It had happened in the blink of an eye, no one recalled seeing a monolith). They had interviewed the Khoji and pressed them as much as they could for an explanation but it seemed that they didn’t know anything about the subject, and really didn’t care either. The team had constructed rudimentary communications equipment but there was no one apart from the Khoji to communicate with. “So basically there’s nothing we can do except consider the possibility that someday we might get zapped back to where we came from – or that we might stay here until we die,” Daisy had concluded, and her words had rung true for everyone. (She had also ended her statement with the words “Fuck my life,” provoking several smiles).

 

Jemma then changed the subject. “You look well today. How are you?”

 

“Well I slept last night which was good. I have to pee all the time, I’m starting to waddle instead of walk, and my ankles are swollen,” Bobbi said. “But that tea we got from the Khoji helps.” She paused, “And if I have to hear once more from Hunter how much he likes how big my tits are now….”

 

Jemma laughed out loud, and almost bit her lip to refrain from sharing her own experience with the subject.

 

They reached the outskirts of the Khoji farmland, and their teammates – spread out as they worked the expansive fields - were coming into view. Having a Pavlovian response, Jemma found her heart rate picking up a bit of speed. The first few times she and Fitz spent their days separated because of farm work, her brain would lapse into its old pattern of preparing for something to go wrong, preparing for the notion that Fitz wouldn’t be there. It would take some time to shake that, take some time before her eyes would stop darting all over the fields frantically searching for Fitz and expecting to find that he had fallen off of a ladder or something equally tragic.

 

Today, however, was much like any day. Jemma and Bobbi went around to where their teammates were, distributing food so they could eat their lunches under the nearest shady tree. They did so in shifts. If any Khoji were working nearby, they would join them and share their food but they usually said almost nothing unless Bobbi or Hunter were nearby.

 

Jemma, of course, would tend to any injuries that her teammates had but the Khoji were not slave drivers and believed in working safely so other than some sore backs or knees, the group usually was in good condition. Their lives here were certainly less strenuous than they had been before; most of the team was healthier and less injured than they had been in years. So Jemma and Bobbi would stay as long as reasonable, but they had plenty of chores to perform back at the campsite so they would head back shortly after lunch unless some of the Khoji wanted to barter with them.

 

On this day, Jemma decided to surprise Fitz by doing his assigned chore: she refilled the showers’ water bags. She was finishing up the task as she began to hear the sounds of the team returning from the Khoji fields.

 

Not long afterwards, the team did what they did every evening: they assembled around the campfire eating dinner. The sun was rapidly setting and the cover of darkness provided a cloak which the team had been using to open up and talk about their lives.

 

It was a practice that had begun a few months ago. One evening they were similarly positioned but two unusual things had occurred: they had been drinking alcohol that the Khoji had given as a surprise gift, and Deke suddenly decided that instead of telling jokes or strange stories he was going to start talking about his life and the pain he was trying to work through. With all defenses and bravado dropped, Deke simply spoke about losing his parents, how he felt, the trauma he had been through and how it impacted him. The team listened respectfully, even those who weren’t crazy about Deke.

 

His sincere opening up inspired a few others. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the dark night surrounding them, maybe it was the fact that they were far enough removed from the strife that their lives had been. Yo-Yo had gone next, sharing what her life had been like in Columbia, the fear she had felt when she became an Inhuman. She wasn’t ready yet to share how frightening the events of the past year had been.

 

Two nights after that initial discussion around the fire, Fitz had had a nightmare. He was back to being The Doctor and he was performing an experiment on a fully-conscious, terrified child. It was a nightmare he’d had plenty of times before, especially during his six months in prison. He and Jemma had talked about it a few times since being reunited. He had woken up that night inside the tent sweating and aching, and making so much commotion that Jemma had woken up too. They had held each other and for a long time simply remained quiet. “Was it…” Jemma had finally whispered, her voice hoarse. “It was him,” he’d whispered back. “The Doctor. Me.” She reached for a cloth to pat the sweat off of his face. “Not you,” she’d said fiercely, belying the gentleness of her touch on his forehead. “You are not responsible for what happened when you were hooked up to a machine!”

 

The day after the nightmare, Fitz resolved not to just put it aside as he always did; this time, instead, he would talk about it with the group during one of the “after dinner” sessions around the fire. It was scary at first, for a moment it almost felt like standing up naked in front of the only people in the world who meant anything to you, but it also felt like a release of pent-up pressure. And seeing Coulson having done something similar the night before nudged Fitz in the right direction. He felt better the next day. Others continued to open up during these nightly sessions.

 

If someone didn’t feel like participating on any given evening, they didn’t have to. But most stayed and talked or at least listened. It was as if the darkness of the night allowed them to start shedding the darkness they had been living through, At times it may have been uncomfortable but the entire team noticed that everyone seemed better, somehow, during the day. They were more relaxed and more able to focus on their work of trying to find a way home.

 

Despite their continued efforts, however, the team was no closer to finding a way home or even an explanation than they had been the week they arrived. Sometimes they were frustrated, but with each passing week they fell more into a mode of acceptance.

 


	5. The First Year - Part B

The Khoji enjoyed several athletic games but they hadn’t known one that was similar to the game that six of them were playing right now with most of the agents. The team had agreed to introduce the game to the Khoji as “soccer” since the majority of the team referred it as such, although Fitz, Simmons, Hunter, and Yo-Yo could have taken issue with that and insisted it be called “football”. 

Jemma and Bobbi sat on the sidelines and watched the game beside a few Khoji; they took turns filling up canteens and bringing them to the players. Jemma watched her husband. They both knew he was better at watching the game than playing it, but he wasn’t half bad and the team played mostly for fun anyway.

Bobbi cheered as she saw May score a goal. “Damn, she just never slows down, does she?” she said to Jemma. 

“True. Although I must say that this is a novel way for her to spend time on the morning of her wedding,” Jemma replied, her eyes on the field. She then turned towards Bobbi. “What did you do on your wedding day? Before the ceremony?”

Bobbi sighed. “Well, given how non-traditional our lives are, I just wanted a traditional wedding day. So I did the usual types of things that a bride does to get ready, and I went over the planning lists with my sister about a hundred times. The next day, of course, Hunter and I were off on the usual cloak and dagger business. What about you?”

Jemma tilted her head back. They hadn’t been here a year yet, but somehow trying to remember the other world and their lives felt a bit like trying to recapture a dream. She then laughed, “As I recall, I spent the day working with Fitz to seal a dimensional rift and thinking about how to possibly cure Coulson. Somewhere in there I hoped that Deke would bring back something decent from the thrift stores, and then I vaguely remember Daisy helping me with my hair and May pinning me into a dress that was two sizes too large. She poked me once, but I’m sure it was an accident,” she added, with a smile. 

“I doubt May will let us make any fuss over her today,” Bobbi said.

Several Khoji on the sidelines cheered as one of the teams made another goal. Jemma looked; it wasn’t the team Fitz was on. She wasn’t keeping score, but his team appeared to be getting trounced. 

“At least the Khoji enjoy any excuse for a party,” Bobbi added. Several Khoji said they would attend the ceremony and reception afterwards, bringing alcohol and music.

Jemma looked over and saw Bobbi shift her weight and wince slightly. Bobbi smiled and said, “The baby just doesn’t stop kicking. He wants out. Now.” She then added, “He or she, I meant to say.”

“Should be any day now,” Jemma said, her tone just a bit too high and light.

When the game wrapped up, the players dispersed. Some headed for the showers, some prepared makeshift lunches. They agreed to start the wedding just as soon as everyone was showered and fed, and May and Coulson were ready.

“Fitz, can you help me with my back?” Jemma asked, as he left the playing field.

“Of course,” he replied. 

They entered their tent, and Jemma lowered herself onto the bed to lie on her side. “The usual spot, yeah?” Fitz asked.

“Yes. Please,” Jemma said.

“How is it today?” Fitz asked as he kneaded her lower back. 

“I feel good other than the back pain,” Jemma said. “And Bobbi looks good.” She took a breath. “Her labor could start almost any day now.”

“Yeah, sure looks that way,” Fitz said. “How do you feel about it?”

“I just keep reminding myself that I managed to feed and shelter myself alone on Maveth for a while, I managed to keep Daisy alive – so assisting in a birth has to be easy in comparison.” She paused. “Just a bit higher please.”

Fitz complied; Jemma always marveled at how strong his hands were. “Would be easier in a modern hospital for sure, but you know you can handle anything,” he said. “And the Khoji said they would send their best midwife.”

“We might need to ask for her to come stay in our campsite now since the baby is so close. I’ll try to ask during the wedding celebration tonight.” Jemma then added, “Although I think Hunter’s already done so. I’ll check with him first.”

“And for when it’s your turn…” Fitz began.

Jemma smiled. “I think Hunter has already conveyed your offer as well – that you will practically sell your soul to the Khoji to ensure the midwife is there for our birth too. I truly think they’ll help us no matter what.”

“Never hurts to give them an incentive,” Fitz remarked.

“How are your hands? Are they tired?” Jemma asked. The massage was just what she needed, although for every bit that she loved the touch, she also felt guilty knowing that it could be strenuous for Fitz. Since they had arrived here, he’d certainly been doing more manual labor than he ever had before.

“Jemma….” Fitz began softly, his touch as firm as ever. “Don’t worry about me. I could do this for hours. Days even!” he added with a smile.

“Days?” Jemma laughed. “Okay, but we’d miss the wedding!”

A couple of hours later, it was time for the ceremony. May wore a simple, pale shift bartered from the Khoji. Clothes were some of the more expensive items; the agents paid for them with many long days in the field. Since they apparently were going to be here for a while, the team had discussed acquiring fabric and sewing materials to make their own clothing in the future. 

Coulson’s choice of what to wear to the wedding was not as simple. On their wedding days, Khoji men dressed as they normally did with the exception of adhering brightly colored feathers to their hair, but that didn’t appeal to Coulson. He would have settled for his best pair of trousers and a suit jacket, but suits were unknown here. However in speaking with the Khoji (Coulson was fairly proficient with their language now), he learned that their men used to wear a garment similar to a cape on their wedding days. He’d bartered for an old one; it had needed a good washing and its color was dull but it would do. Various team members had been amused when they’d first learned of the transaction and saw Coulson model the garment. But he had said, “You have to do something special for your wedding.”

The team gathered in a circle, adjacent to the lake creating a picture-perfect view. The hottest part of the day was beginning to recede and the temperature felt pleasant. 

Daisy stood in between Coulson and May, and cleared her throat. “We’re honored to be here today,” she began, “to celebrate the union of Melinda May and Phil Coulson.” Tears were already forming in Daisy’s eyes but her voice remained steady.

Jemma leaned into Fitz. Standing for long periods of time was becoming more difficult for her than she liked to admit. Fitz helped support her weight. As part of the ceremony, each team member was invited to say a few words, and each one did. Jemma wanted to whisper to Fitz that the slower pace of this wedding was enjoyable; they weren’t inside a forest dimension that could collapse at any minute and so they could really take their time today unlike with their own wedding. Jemma also wanted to whisper to Fitz that she knew she was lucky to have such a good husband, one who would help her stand up and help relieve her sore back. She tried to balance the fact that she knew she didn’t need to say those words with the fact that she didn’t want to assume that her husband didn’t want to hear them.

The sun was beginning to set by the time the ceremony was over, and the sky turned an entrancing shade of pink and orange. Daisy spoke the words, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” She turned towards her father-figure and said, “You may kiss the bride.”

An evening of revelry ensued. Everyone except Bobbi and Jemma enjoyed a glass or two of the special brew. The musicians attacked their instruments energetically, and sooner or later almost everyone got up to dance. 

A few hours later, back inside their tent, Fitz and Jemma undressed for sleep. He helped lower her to the bed; she had been walking stiffly since the wedding, he had noticed.

“Let me massage your back again,” Fitz offered. 

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m feeling alright,” Jemma said breezily.

“Oh, come on,” he whispered resolutely. “Stop worrying about my bloody hands; they’re not tired. Let me help you.”

“But you’ll be back in the field soon!” Jemma protested. They had long since accepted the fact that ‘in the field’ carried a much different meaning in their lives than it used to.

“Just let me do this,” Fitz insisted, with just a touch of exasperation in his voice.

“Oh Fitz,” Jemma sighed. “It’s bad enough that I literally lean on you during the entire ceremony, and that when we sit around the fire I use you as a human cushion. Don’t you ever get tired?”

“How about we make a deal, wife?” Fitz said, as he gently nudged her to lie on her side. “If your feeble and frail old husband ever starts to feel his hands atrophy or starts to double over in exhaustion, he will warn you.” Although his touch was gentle, his tone was sarcastic.

Jemma turned her neck so she could look at his face. “Is that what this is about? Do you think that I think you’re frail and feeble?”

“Well, you certainly are acting like it.” He took a breath. “And let’s admit that I’m the weakest football player here.”

Jemma was quiet for a moment, trying to digest his words. “Well, I – I would have been the weakest football player out there, had I played. So you’ve got me beaten!” she said, though she felt the comment was an insipid one. She started up again, seriously this time, “Fitz, I certainly think of you as strong and powerful.”

His hands started to massage her back. “Then let me be strong and powerful. This is something I’m good at. And so is helping to support your weight when you’re standing up.”

Jemma listened to his words. Was he worried that he appeared soft in front of the team because he wasn’t a great football player? Perhaps that, compounded by the fact that he didn’t get to use his brain here as much as he had in the past, made him feel inadequate. It made no logical sense to Jemma, but she understood that minds weren’t always logical.

“Alright,” she said, keeping her tone soft. “I will let you tell me when you need a rest instead of assuming you might want one. And – and I really did appreciate your helping me to stand up during the ceremony. I sometimes feel a bit embarrassed because I can’t walk or stand as much as I used to. Of course, I know during the ceremony I should have focused more on the bride and groom, but I kept thinking instead how lucky I was to be married to you.”

He reached to kiss her forehead. “I’m the lucky one.”

When they were done with the massage, Fitz repositioned himself to kiss her belly. He spoke a few words to the baby, Jemma stroking his hair as he did so.

She fell asleep shortly afterwards, but Fitz remained awake. He was no obstetrician but he knew that despite their idyllic surroundings and the promise of an expert midwife, they were lacking many medical advances here. No antibiotics, no vaccinations, no blood transfusions in case of hemorrhaging, or a hundred other gifts of science. For years now, the agents had simply dealt with whatever was thrown at them and had survived. And for years, he and Jemma had faced down every bizarre roadblock the universe could dream up. Would the birth of their child do them in?


	6. The First Year - Part C

 

Bright moonlight beamed down on the campsite as Jemma and Fitz walked hand in hand outside. She stopped and tilted her head up.

“We can see the stars so clearly,” she whispered considerately, not wanting to wake their teammates who were asleep in their nearby tents. “No light pollution to obstruct the view of the stars.”

Fitz squeezed her hand. “Still takes my breath away.” He paused, and added, “And makes me feel small. We still have no idea where we are.”

Jemma reached her free hand around to the back of her neck and casually rubbed it as she continued to look towards the heavens. “I remember one of the first things Bobbi told me when we got here was that she didn’t recognize any of the stars here.”

“The ground under our feet and our immediate surrounding look like any nice campground back on earth,” Fitz murmured. “And then you look to the sky and it’s all different. We--” He stopped abruptly as Jemma dropped his hand and winced.

“Another contraction?” he asked.

“Yes,” she breathed, reaching to hold onto him. She squeezed her eyes shut and held onto him tighter.

“I wish we had a decent means to tell time,” Fitz said. “I gather it’s been 20 minutes since the last. Maybe 15.”

“I think maybe 20,” Jemma managed. “It’s normal for the timing to be irregular,” she reminded him. “We’re still early in labor.”

She was quiet for a bit and he continued to hold onto her. “Do you want to go back to the tent and lie down?” he whispered.

“No. I want to try to move as much as possible.” She winced again and gritted her teeth. “Just keep holding me.”

“Always,” he said. 

In the distance, they heard Bobbi and Hunter’s son start crying. He usually didn’t sleep through the night; most of the team was just getting used to the fact that at some point during the night they’d hear the baby cry. Bobbi and Hunter had given their son the same first name as his dad: Lance. They figured it worked just fine since everyone called Hunter by his last name – although Mack had jokingly commented, “Do we really need two Lance Hunters in the world?”

“The sun should come up in four or five hours,” Fitz said. “They promised us the midwife would be here at first light.”

“The Khoji are reliable,” Jemma replied. “Nothing to worry about.” As she gripped her husband’s hands, however, she noted that they were damp despite the cool temperature that night.

Another couple decided to take a moonlit stroll later that night. Woken up by young Lance, Yo-Yo and Mack figured they, too, would like a chance to enjoy the starry sky. And it was more than that. With Lance so full of energy, and Jemma obviously about to give birth any day now, Yo-Yo could not help but to feel some sadness over the fact that she hadn’t gotten pregnant.

“It’s okay,” Mack said soothingly, quietly as they walked. “We know this isn’t the safest place to give birth. I wouldn’t want to risk losing you,” he added passionately. “We’re lucky that Bobbi got through it so easily – what if we weren’t so fortunate? And besides. You know my heart still aches over Hope.”

But Elena couldn’t explain it. Never before had she felt a burning desire to experience pregnancy or become a mother. Yet somehow watching Bobbi and Jemma go through those experiences left Elena feeling bewildered and even betrayed that her own body wasn’t following suit. 

 

***

 

During their year in this new place, the team had learned that the Khoji would never give out their individual names. They had been told that yes, they each had names, but that each person’s name was a secret that they shared only with their own kind. So Fitz had no good way to address the midwife other than “Ma’am”. When he and the others worked in the Khoji’s field, they tended to address the foreman as “Sir” or “Ma’am”; the Khoji had found it bizarre at first but now accepted the nomenclature.

“Uh – ma’am? What do you think about the situation?” Fitz began tentatively. He knew his pronunciation of their language left a lot to be desired, but he hoped he had said the words correctly. 

The midwife answered in her own language, and both Fitz and Jemma got the gist of it at the same time: something about husbands being difficult and that Fitz should go get more water. They giggled at the shared realization of her meaning. 

“We could use more water,” Jemma said. She was lying on her side inside their tent. A full 25 hours had passed since their stargazing expedition when her labor had been new.

“Okay,” Fitz said, rising from the squatting position he had been in. “More water. On it.”

“And would you eat something too, please?” Jemma asked. “I know you skipped lunch or dinner. Or both. If nothing else there should be some of the dried nuts left or perhaps some of the stew.”

Fitz asked the midwife if she needed anything, was told no, and he left the tent with two empty buckets. He also knew Jemma’s suggestion was a good one, but he wasn’t hungry.

He had only taken a few steps from the tent when he was joined by Hunter. Hunter wordlessly reached to take one of the buckets.

“What are you doing up, Hunter?” Fitz asked. “Lance isn’t making any noise, so shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” Hunter said. “Took a nap during the day. Thank goodness the Khoji allow paternity leave,” he laughed, referencing the fact that as a new father, he was allowed much shorter hours in the fields. 

That was a good thing. After gathering the team’s input, Coulson had laid out a plan to make their group more self-sufficient. They had a number of projects starting up: planting fruit trees (the team didn’t have enough land to do wide-scale farming but they could plant fruit trees), harvesting wild acorns (they didn’t taste that great but they were full of calories and protein, and they could also be used to barter), and clothing production now that they had sewing materials. They were even trying to learn how to can fruit and vegetables, but the equipment needed to do so right now was beyond their means. So any day or half day that one of the agents wasn’t laboring in the Khoji fields enabled them to undertake more of these projects.

And of course there was the soap-making. Coulson was very into the idea of the team making their own soap, even though the Khoji bartered theirs at a fairly low cost. Plans were already drawn up for the agents to begin production soon.

Eventually they wanted to construct houses, but that would be a major undertaking and they were only in the stages of planning for what they would need and how they could possibly acquire it all.

“So how are you doing?” Hunter asked. 

“Oh I’m fine, fine,” Fitz said, his voice shaking. “I’m never going to put my penis inside her vagina ever again, but I’m fine.”

“Fitz, mate, stop worrying!” Hunter insisted. He halted his walking and looked Fitz in the eyes. “Jemma herself has told us a hundred times that labor can take a long, long time. And remember Yo-Yo said her friend was in labor for 72 hours? Why, you and Jemma are just getting started!”

Hunter paused and, with his free hand, gripped Fitz’s. “What is bothering you the most? What are you afraid of?”

“Well, for one I’ve never seen Jemma in so much pain. I mean –“ he grimaced, and continued, “I had to listen to her being tortured by that Giyera when Hydra was trying to get us to take them to Maveth. This is just entirely different.”

Hunter was quiet for a moment and continued making eye contact with Fitz. “What else?” he asked softly.

“What if I lose her? I’m terrified.” Fitz paused and took a breath. “I know, I know. I need to stop worrying.” His eyes darted around; in the distance he saw the moonlight glinting off the lake. “Look, this place is gorgeous and tranquil and I certainly don’t miss spending every other day either fearing the world will end or watching someone I love get a near-fatal injury. But never before have I missed our lab and our instruments and our computers so much. So much of what I trained to do, I can’t do here!” The last two sentences came out sounding more nakedly anguished than Fitz had wanted. He paused and then said quickly, “I’m sorry. There is no use whining over what we can’t change. We agents need to take whatever circumstances are thrown at us and make the most of them.”

Hunter smiled, “What are you reading from an old S.H.I.E.L.D. manual? It’s okay to miss your lab. I sure miss Netflix and beer and watching football instead of playing it – and I truly wish we had disposable diapers and a garbage service.”

They resumed walking towards the lake. This place had crickets, and they could hear them chirping in the background. “Just take it one minute at a time,” Hunter said softly. “She is going to be fine. Women have been giving birth like this since the dawn of time, and Simmons has faced down the worst of the worst and triumphed. She’s in pain now, but Bobbi says it passes and you just kind of forget how bad it was. Fitz, just try to be patient.”

“You’re right,” Fitz said quietly, but he wasn’t looking at Hunter. 

“And besides, about what you said earlier? Don’t worry. Once the baby arrives, you won’t ever get another chance to put your penis inside her vagina, as you so eloquently put it. One or both of you will always be asleep or just too tired to ever entertain that notion again!”

Hunter knew that Fitz needed a laugh and was relieved to see at least a hint of a smile on his friend’s face.

***

There were no smiles on the faces of the team members sitting around the kitchen table now.

“How long has she been in labor now?” Davis asked.

“It’s been more than two days,” May said flatly. “At least 50 hours.”

“Isn’t it more like two and a half days?” Yo-Yo asked.

Most of the team was assembled around the table, picking at food. They weren’t saying much. Periodically they would hear screams from FitzSimmons’ tent. A game similar to backgammon was being half-heartedly played. 

The midwife had left a few hours ago, relieved by a younger midwife. The young midwife strode in looking confident and competent. 

“I’m going to go back in there and see if they need anything,” Bobbi said decisively, handing the baby to Hunter.

“We just did that,” Coulson said glumly. “Daisy’s in there now – she’d tell us if their needs have changed in the last ten minutes.”

“But this still is normal, right?” Piper asked, looking around at the group. “I mean, the midwife would tell us if we had any reason to be worried. This is still basically a normal birth that’s just taking a long time?”

The group was silent. “I guess no one really knows,” Mack finally said. 

 

***

Fitz took a cool washcloth to Jemma’s forehead and patted it. 

Later, at her request, he took another washcloth to her feet.

Later he was about to hand her the mint leaves she’d requested to chew, but another wave of pain washed over her and she didn’t have the strength to chew.

The young midwife barked at Daisy to bring them another cup of tea, the special brew that both midwives had said would ease labor pains.

Daisy expected Jemma to say ‘Not that foul tea again – I’ve been drinking it for two days!’ but Jemma was silent. Daisy waited a beat or two for Jemma to say something, and her heart continued to slowly drop as she realized that Jemma was too weak to protest. Daisy averted Fitz’s eyes as she exited the tent to get the tea. As soon as she approached the kitchen area, May wordlessly handed her a mug of the brew.

Daisy almost gasped as she heard another scream come from the tent, this one so guttural and brutal.

***

Yo-Yo and Mack sat next to each other at the table, their bodies pressed together.

“This is why I’m glad you’re not pregnant and glad that we’ll continue to use the methods we’ve been using to avoid it,” Mack whispered to her. Although the others were sitting near them, everyone was either too exhausted or too distraught to care who overheard what at this point.

Daisy asked Coulson if he’d go for a walk with her. They set out. She whispered, “Can we talk about what Fitz is going to do if she doesn’t make it?”

Coulson couldn’t decide how to answer her just yet. He knew he should say that it was too soon to have that discussion, and yet it truly wasn’t.

“Mack, can you come here please?” Fitz called out from the tent, his voice somewhere between anguish and terror.

Mack bolted up and bounded into the tent. Elena followed at a distance and decided she would stand outside the tent in case she was needed.

Mack entered the tent. He wasn’t sure if anxiety had a smell but he thought it might’ve been what his nose caught. Unless it was the tea the midwife had Jemma sipping.

“Hold her up,” the midwife said in English. “The husband needs a break."

The midwife placed Mack behind Jemma and had him grip her under her arms.

“Letting gravity help here,” Fitz said, his voice a flood of barely-contained hysteria. He repositioned himself so that he could catch the baby.

The midwife said, “Now you push with all strength, Jemma!” The command came out in something of a monotone. 

Yo-Yo remained standing outside the tent, listening. She stood there for a while. Jemma’s screams had become so commonplace that they no longer made Yo-Yo wince in sympathy. She simply listened to the howls. 

And then her ears perked up when she heard some magic words come out of Fitz’s mouth: “I see the head!”

Yo-Yo dashed back to the kitchen area, though several of the team had heard the words too, and were already heading towards the tent.

“They see the head?” Piper asked. “That’s good, right? Maybe we’re in the clear.”

“I will devote my life to God and become the most virtuous man to walk the face of the planet if God will get them through this!” Hunter declared.

Bobbi, desperately needing humor, laughed out loud and said, “That I can’t wait to see.”

And then came the sound they were all desperate to hear: a newborn baby crying. 

“The baby!” Daisy exclaimed. And then she gasped, “But I don’t hear Jemma. What about….”

“Go in there and make sure she’s okay!” Coulson said, and Daisy rushed inside the tent.

A moment later she returned. “We have two very exhausted parents and one baby boy.”

The team collectively exhaled, Hunter sinking to the ground in relief. 

“Simmons is really okay?” Coulson asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure it’s a boy? I was convinced they’d have a girl,” Deke commented. 

***

A bedraggled Fitz, with dark circles under his eyes, firmly but kindly told the team that Jemma was in desperate need of rest. As eager as they were to see the baby, they understood and wanted to give the parents whatever they needed.

“Tell us when you need something from us, and you’ll have it,” May said, echoing the sentiments of the others.

Bobbi wordlessly handed Fitz a knapsack containing clean diapers and other necessities. It was identical to the care package that Jemma had given her and Hunter a few months ago.

Fitz took the package, closed the tent flap, and returned to Jemma’s bedside. She was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Their son was propped up against her chest. He had already taken to the breast and was now swaddled, and sleeping.

“Welcome, Rory,” Fitz whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his son’s forehead. He and Jemma had picked the name a few weeks ago. They remembered their days of watching Doctor Who and both had liked the loyal, honorable Rory. And they felt the name Rory Fitz-Simmons had a nice ring to it.

Jemma woke a few hours later. Fitz was snoring quietly, and Rory still slept too. As the fog cleared from her head, Jemma knew she desperately wanted Fitz to get the rest he needed, but she also needed him. 

She reached over and kissed his cheek. “You were marvelous today,” she murmured.

Her touch woke him instantly, and his mind snapped to alertness straightaway. “Me? You were the one who did all the pushing and felt all the contractions. For three days straight.”

“And look at our son; he is perfect,” Jemma said. “I think now I can fully be in awe of him.”

“Those tiny little fingers and little toes,” he murmured. He turned towards her. “Of course I am in awe of you first and foremost.”

Jemma smiled. “As wonderful as that is to hear, can you – uh - help me to the chamber pot? I really need to empty my bladder and there’s more general messiness down there. The piles of soiled towels I left over the last few days apparently were not enough.”

They both laughed, and right on cue Rory began to cry.

 

TO BE CONTINUED


	7. The First Year - Part D

The First Year – Part D

The Khoji requested that each day the agents provide at least five of their team members to help with the harvest now. Coulson and the others felt that was more than fair given how much the Khoji had done for them. And it left seven adult members of their team to work on their new projects as well as their regular chores. They had to rotate who went to the Khoji farms since, of course, everyone preferred to stay at their campsite and work on the team’s projects.

Fitz was scheduled to work for the Khoji that day, and he and the others were in the fields. He was tasked with harvesting peas. He looked for pods that were swollen and plump. As repetitive as the work was, he reminded himself of a conversation that he and Jemma had had not long after they had arrived here. The days might be boring and they missed the lab, but never before had they ever had so much uninterrupted time together. It felt like a fair trade to both of them – not that fate would really care what they thought of it all, as Fitz had added.

And besides, all the new projects the team was undertaking gave Jemma and Fitz plenty of opportunities to use their brainpower. They had some good ideas on how they could can vegetables even without the traditional supplies used for it.

As he picked another few pods, he smiled to himself thinking that he and Jemma always were the proverbial “two peas in a pod.” He took one of the pods and opened it, popping the peas into his mouth. They were permitted to sample what they harvested; pretty much everyone did it unless it was something they didn’t want.

“Hello!”

Fitz startled and turned around as he finished chewing. Standing before him was the young midwife, the second midwife who had helped bring Rory into the world.

“Hello!” Fitz returned the greeting, feeling awkward that he couldn’t address her by name. He opened his mouth to thank her again for everything she had done, but she spoke first.

“How is the baby?” she asked, continuing to speak English.

“The baby is doing very well. So is Jemma,” Fitz answered straightforwardly. “You speak our language very well. Far better than I speak yours.”

“I know. I did not find it too hard to learn.”

She took a step closer to Fitz. For a second, Fitz wanted to take a step backwards. During his previous interactions with the Khoji, they seemed to have the same sense of personal space as the agents did. The Khoji never stepped too close and they avoided physical contact, so the midwife’s movement was unusual.

“You are a very good husband,” the midwife said. “Very patient and calm.”

Fitz let out a laugh. “I didn’t feel calm at all – I was extremely nervous. But I am happy it all turned out well.”

“You are very smart too – you had ideas on how we can improve the farming. And you are bold – because you said those ideas to us.”

“Thank you,” Fitz said. A strange sensation began in the pit of his stomach. This interaction was so unlike any other Khoji interaction; they rarely if ever complimented the agents or made any sort of personal observations about them. 

“Would you come to my tent with me? I don’t know how to say it in your language, but I’d like to act as your wife with you now. And I know that she can’t do that with you for a while.” 

The midwife then placed her hand on Fitz’s chest.

Fitz took a step back and instinctively raised his hands over his chest. “I don’t understand exactly what you mean…” he began, his voice trailing off. He, of course, had an idea of what she meant.

The midwife made a gesture with her hands and took a pointed look at Fitz’s groin area. “Understand now?”

“Yes. But no! No, I’m sorry but no. It’s just not something I do with anyone other than my wife.” Although he was blushing, Fitz quickly regained his composure. “What about Davis? Or Deke? They – uh – might like for you to….’act as their wife’,” he said, using her terminology.

“No,” she replied. “Not them. Just you.” And with that she turned around and walked away.

As Fitz worked the rest of the day, he tried to make sense of the interaction. They had been here a year, but the agents still knew so little about the Khoji because they never shared personal information. Until today, no member of the Khoji had propositioned one of the agents. (Given the close quarters they lived in, Fitz was 100% certain that everyone would’ve known sooner or later had someone else been propositioned). The team knew that the Khoji culture had the institution of marriage – the vast majority of cultures throughout time certainly had too – and that the women here seemed to have the same rights as men. Beyond that, they knew almost nothing else. Is this expected behavior when one’s wife had recently given birth? Fitz wondered. Or is what she just suggested considered shocking in her culture too? He wasn’t sure he’d ever get an answer; there really wasn’t anyone he could ask.

He wished the day would pass quickly so he could get home to Jemma.

 

***

“Well, she certainly has impeccable taste,” Jemma whispered to Fitz, as she squeezed his hand. Night had fallen, and they were back inside their tent. Rory had been fed, changed, and now slept soundly. He was a good sleeper, usually only waking once during the night. 

Jemma, of course, remembered that the midwife was young and attractive. Nubile, she told herself, was the word. Her skin was smooth and unmarked by freckles or blemishes, her hair thick and glossy. 

Fitz had been eager to talk about the incident, but he didn’t want tongues wagging over it so he knew that meant waiting until he could get Jemma alone. Her task list for the day had been extensive; in addition to her work to find a solution to the canning problem, she had had laundry duty. Doing laundry for 12 adults and two babies took most of the day, despite Jemma completing the task in the most efficient way possible.

“I’m just so shocked, you know?” Fitz said, shaking his head and not going in on Jemma’s playful tone. “They never talk to us about anything personal – let alone ask us to do something like that!”

“Could it be the fact that we’ve been here a year now?” Jemma wondered. “Maybe individual members of their society will start to open up to us. Although that was certainly a strange way to start it.” She paused and then asked, “So she didn’t seem angry or upset? She just walked away, right?”

“Right. Although it’s anyone’s guess if I interpreted her facial expressions correctly.” He paused and added, “I wonder if we will start to see other surprises from them soon.”

“It may be. I also wonder why she didn’t seem to like your idea of going for Davis or Deke. I’m sure either one wouldn’t mind some….companionship.” Daisy had made it clear to Deke that she still did not want a boyfriend at this point in her life.

“Oh well. I just hope she keeps her distance.” Fitz paused and then turned towards Jemma. “Until we need her again.” That thought was a bit chilling to him. What if she refused to help next time she was needed?

“Well, we don’t know how many midwives they have,” Jemma said. She kept her voice steady, having picked up on the almost-undetectable quiver in Fitz’s voice and knowing where his thoughts must have gone. “There was the older one. And – although I certainly respected their experience and their calm presence – now that Bobbi and I have each been through it….we might not need them as much.”

“Very true.”

They settled down into the bed, getting into their usual position with Jemma’s head on Fitz’s shoulder. “Not that her offer has anything to do with my saying this but….the soreness is mostly gone. I was just thinking this morning that I feel much better. I think we’ll be able to have sex again soon.”

Fitz was silent for a few moments, and then said, “I can’t decide whether to say ‘I can’t wait!” or to calmly say, ‘You just tell me when, wife.’”

“Hmmm….I like both replies!”

 

***

Just a few days later, Jemma told Fitz that she was ready. She had come to the decision herself, and she felt like she knew her body well enough. But earlier that day, she had the opportunity to talk to someone in a similar position whose input she wanted: Bobbi. 

The two were taking a break from planting fruit trees. They left the area that would someday be an orchard, walked into the dense forest surrounding it, and sat under a tree for shade, each resting her back against the trunk. The water in their canteens was still slightly cool.

Bobbi started asking Jemma how she felt the work was going, and they both mused at how odd it was to be planting fruit trees which would take years to mature. Either the team would be here for years and someday reap the orchard’s benefits, or they wouldn’t be here when the trees bore fruit – and either thought was a bit disquieting. 

“And speaking of mixed feelings,” Bobbi continued, “I’m both enjoying having an hour away from the baby and missing him like crazy.”

Both babies were back at the campsite with their fathers.

“Me too!” Jemma exclaimed. “It’s odd to feel both emotions at once.”

“We’ll have to head back there soon though. Another hour and my tits will start aching if I don’t feed him.” Bobbi reflexively placed her forearm across her chest.

Jemma nodded at that reality too. “I really like the sensation of feeding the baby,” she added. 

“I like it okay but my nipples get sore sometimes.” Bobbi took another swig of her water and then added, conspiratorially, “I’ve got to tell you this though. When Hunter and I started having sex again, sometimes my tits would squirt out a bit of breast milk.”

“Oh!” Jemma remarked. She was understandably eager to hear more about the general topic of resuming marital relations. “Was – um, was it awkward or anything?” She wasn’t sure what to ask but wanted Bobbi to keep talking.

Bobbi laughed. “First time it happened, Hunter got so turned on that he put his mouth on one nipple and just sucked. And he drank! I almost yelled at him ‘That’s our son’s breakfast!’ But I didn’t. I actually thought what he did was kind of hot.” She shook her head and muttered, “Sometimes he suggests or does things that I don’t like at first and then end up getting turned on by.” 

Bobbi’s voice returned to normal and she added, “But overall, no, nothing awkward. I think our sex life’s gone back to normal pretty much, other than the times the baby wakes up during it.” Bobbi paused, “What about you? Is it too soon or no?”

“I feel like I’m ready to start again. Still sore down there sometimes but it’s less and less each day. And I’m back to feeling arousal at times.” Jemma turned her head towards Bobbi and added, “The first few weeks after Rory arrived, the last thing my body felt was any sort of sexual arousal. But it has been gradually returning.” 

Bobbi silently noted that Jemma sounded almost like she was reading a report – but she figured that might be what was making Jemma feel comfortable enough to discuss the subject. “Are you worried or concerned about anything?” Bobbi asked.

Jemma shrugged, “Not really. We have pain relievers for any soreness. I have slightly more body fat now but I don’t think Fitz will notice or mind. And, well, he loves the breasts, and given that he’s a scientist I don’t think he’ll be put off if any milk leaks out.”

Jemma sounded now as if she were reading off a checklist, but again Bobbi silently noted the fact and assumed it helped keep her comfortable with the topic. 

“And as for birth control,” Jemma continued, “given what the hormones do when a woman is breastfeeding, that should keep us from getting pregnant again. Although we’ll combine it with the withdrawal method too. Neither method is anywhere near 100% effective but we have to hope it will be enough.” She then asked, “I assume you’re doing the same?”

“Yes,” Bobbi said. She then smiled, “I love how both of you scientists plan and prepare everything.”

Jemma tilted her head, “It’s just how our brains work”

Later that day, Jemma and Fitz were being ruled more by their bodies than their brains. She had encouraged him to get on top of her, as she missed that position. As her pregnancy had progressed, the missionary position hadn’t been possible so it had been a while. She always felt there was something very enjoyable about lying on her back with Fitz on top of her, and her arms grasping his back. 

Fitz kissed her mouth as he thrust in and out. He had already used his tongue and lips on her to bring her to fulfillment. At this point though, with him inside of her, Jemma realized that the soreness was worse than she had anticipated. She closed her eyes. She knew that she could either tell him that they needed to stop or just endure the discomfort, and she felt a strong sense of warmth and comfort knowing that either way, neither his feelings nor his ego would be upset.

Well, she corrected herself, that wasn’t entirely true: he would be sad if he knew that this was causing her discomfort. She had just resolved to tell him when he whispered, “Are you okay?”

Fitz had, indeed, detected that something was off. Before Jemma could answer, he continued, “You’re a bit sore still, maybe?”

She nodded. “I shouldn’t have rushed this. I wanted it really badly, you know?”

They stumbled a bit with their words after that.

“Here, should I – ?“ he started to withdraw.

“Just slowly.”

“Oh yes, sorry.” His initial reaction had been to get out as soon as he realized she was hurting, but he had moved a bit too fast at first – he was so eager to ease her discomfort.

Moments later, they lay side by side. Jemma reached her hand to him and raised her eyebrows, and he nodded. As she stroked him, it seemed to Jemma that Fitz wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands. “You can still touch me,” she encouraged. “Just not the area that’s sore.”

With that permission, Fitz’s hands roamed around her body. But psychologically the thought that he had caused her pain – even though it was unintentional – was too much. He slowly softened in her hands. 

“Oh,” Jemma said gently. “I’m sorry you’re not getting the release you gave me today.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “We have plenty of time. No need to rush anything. I was thinking today in the fields – again – how strange it is to just have this abundance of time.”

“Yes,” she murmured and brought her lips to his for another kiss. She silently resolved that she would surprise him with a blowjob the next morning. If they were lucky, they could fit it in before Rory woke.

Fitz then said, “We’re together and able to touch each other. And our son is doing well; I can’t ask for anything more. I went six months without touching you when I was in that prison – that was hell.”

The team still often had their discussions around the campfire. Everyone seemed to perceive some benefit from them, which is why they continued to have them. For Fitz, both the Framework and his six months in prison continued to come up. So Jemma wasn’t surprised to hear him mention the prison time just now.

Well, Coulson had once said that it might take the team as many years to work through their traumas as it had taken them to live their traumas. That had sounded reasonable to both Jemma and Fitz.

“Do you want to talk about it tonight?” Jemma whispered. 

He shook his head and instead kissed her once again.


	8. The Second Year - Part A

The Second Year - Part A

“So how’s married life treating you, Coulson?” Mack asked. He, Coulson, Fitz, Daisy, and Piper were on their way one morning to the Khoji fields for their work shift. 

Coulson chuckled. “Things feel about the same as always between May and I,” he answered. 

“Of course,” Daisy said. “You two have always been an old married couple.”

“We both would take exception to the term ‘old’,” Coulson remarked.

“You know what I mean,” Daisy said, rolling her eyes. “It’s an expression.” 

Fitz then chimed in, “The whole team looks younger and healthier than they ever have.”

“Must be that Khoji tea we drink,” Mack said. Fitz wasn’t sure if Mack was serious or joking with that comment. He and Jemma had wanted to study the herbs used in the teas here, but most of the basics needed to do a proper study were missing. Their only conclusion at this point was that the herbs possibly had healing properties but there was no solid way to confirm or deny that hypothesis. 

The agents arrived at the outskirts of the Khoji camp, and as usual were greeted by a handful of folks who would serve as overseers for the day. They explained what they wanted done and divided the team up, much as any day. The agents were comfortable enough now to offer their own thoughts on who would work on what, and skilled enough in nuances of communication with the Khoji that they would do so in a way that the Khoji would not feel undermined.

Fitz and Mack were assigned to the construction of new raised beds for some of the crops. They worked companionably together; both enjoyed putting something together more than planting or harvesting. Fitz liked to talk about Rory and detail out how he was progressing. Mack listened and mentally compared Rory with how Hope was at that age. It stung a little, remembering his loss, but he wanted to be a good friend to Fitz so he always gave him his ear. 

After not too long, Fitz felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He slowly turned around. She was there, the young midwife.

She had been there many times in the six months since she had first propositioned Fitz. If the Khoji had reason to deliver something to the agents, she usually was with the group that entered their camp. Sometimes she would say that she wanted to check in on the babies (both of whom were thriving). If Fitz was part of the day’s work group at the Khoji fields, she usually put in an appearance there too.

Fortunately she had hardly spoken to him during these months other than asking how Rory faired. She never asked about Jemma, an omission that Fitz duly noted.

Today, however, there was a glint in her eye that Fitz hadn’t seen for a while. As she strode towards him, Fitz glanced briefly to his side and somehow took great comfort in the fact that Mack was right there, in earshot. 

“Hello,” she said. As last time, she spoke English.

“Hello,” Fitz said. He had been squatting down next to a piece of wood for the raised beds, but he rose to his feet as she approached.

“I bring you both fresh tea,” she said, handing over two canteens.

Fitz started to decline the offer, saying that they had brought their own refreshments (as they always did), but Mack came over and accepted one of the canteens. “Thank you. Always good to stay hydrated.” Of course Mack had no reason to decline the offer; Fitz and Jemma hadn’t told anyone else about the midwife’s proposition.

Mack’s eyebrows knit together as he noticed that the midwife didn’t even look at him - just continued staring at Fitz – even when handing over a canteen to Mack.

Then the midwife wordlessly thrust the other canteen into Fitz’s hands, and he felt that he needed to take it. “Uh, I wish we had something to give you in exchange,” Fitz said, hating the idea of accepting anything from her.

“That is okay. You are a good husband, Fitz. I remember you during the childbirth, you were there the whole time. You did not find anything disgusting. So many fathers stay away during it or don’t like all the messy things about it. But you were very good.”

Fitz knew where this was going and began to protest that he had just done what any husband should have done, but she spoke again, this time her voice higher-pitched.

“Fitz, I want you to come to my tent today at lunchtime. I have a special gift for you.” She reached to touch Fitz’s arm, grasping it around the biceps. He stepped back, but she held on.

Mack’s eyes bulged, and he looked at Fitz and then at the midwife.

“Thank you but Jemma – and the others, I mean, or the others – usually come with our lunch,” Fitz fumbled. “She will be expecting to see me.”

The midwife shook her head. “I wait with patience. My people are so nice to your people. Now I think it is time. I want a husband like you, a patient and kind one. So I should not have to wait any longer.”

Mack decided he didn’t like being an invisible (at least, to the midwife) bystander anymore. “Look, ma’am,” Mack began, using the term that they used to address all the Khoji females. “I’m not sure I fully understand what’s going on, but if I do – Fitz is a married man. You have to respect that.”

“I deliver their baby,” the midwife said insistently. “I like this man, and he should visit my tent.” She still did not break off her eye contact with Fitz.

“Listen, ma’am,” Fitz managed. “There are plenty of Khoji men. I’m sure that one of them would like to be your husband. I can’t – I already have a wife.”

She shook her head. “That does not matter.”

“Of course it matters!” Fitz nearly spat out the words.

Mack looked at Fitz and picked up on his idea from a second ago. “Is there a reason you don’t seek one of, uh, your own men for a husband?”

“No,” she answered, still gripping Fitz’s upper arm.

“Well then,” Mack said, with a smile, “problem solved. You can seek out one of your own men.”

Fitz looked at Mack. “I think she means no as in, no she doesn’t want one of them.”

Mack’s eyes bulged again. “Okay, so what about Davis from our team? He is – he is patient and kind, just what you said you like about Fitz. He’s a very good man. Maybe he would be interested in you.” He paused and added, “Or there’s Deke.”

Mack and Fitz looked at each other and both laughed. Between the crazy situation they were in and the dismissive way Mack said ‘or there’s Deke’, the release from laughter was just what they both needed.

“No Davis, no Deke. This one,” she insisted, her eyes flashing. She moved her hand from Fitz’s arm to his chest, pressing her fingertips against it.

Fitz took another step back as Mack took a step closer to the midwife. “Lady, that’s not how this works,” Mack said. “You don’t get to just command someone. How would you like it if someone you didn’t like just told you to ‘visit his tent’?”

The midwife was quiet for a beat or two. Fitz looked at her and tried to guess what was going on her head, but his instincts told him that she was not mulling over Mack’s words.

And he was right.

“You are bad guests. You are very bad guests!” she fumed. She then took a bracelet off of her wrist, and threw it at Fitz’s feet. With that, she turned on her heel and strode off.

Fitz and Mack exchanged a look. “That can’t be good,” Mack muttered. 

***

Shortly after lunch, the Khoji who worked as overseers that day rounded up all five agents and told them to leave.

“The day is still young,” Coulson said, speaking the Khoji’s language. “Why would you ask us to leave so early?”

“Go,” the overseer commanded. “We will come to your campsite tomorrow.”

“Well, of course you’re always welcome,” Coulson said. “But usually we come to your lands and work for you. May I ask why the change of plans?”

“No.”

Three puzzled agents – and two worried agents – began the walk back to their campsite. 

“What the hell was that about?” Daisy asked. Her tools had been hastily gathered and her hoe bumped awkwardly against her hip as she marched.

“That’s never happened during all our time here!” Piper exclaimed. “The only times we’ve gone home early are when it’s raining and they don’t have any indoor work for us.”

“You wanna tell the story, Turbo, or should I?” Mack asked. He knew that Fitz didn’t love the idea of recounting the incidents, but he also knew that it would have to come out sooner or later. And he knew that Fitz understood this as well. 

“I suppose I will,” Fitz said. He certainly didn’t relish telling it – or the fact that he would have to repeat it all when they reached camp. But it was a chore that had to be done. There was certainly no avoiding it now.

An hour later, the entire team was assembled back at the kitchen area where Fitz repeated to the group what he had told Coulson, Mack, Daisy and Piper during the walk. The rest of the team had been understandably surprised to see the five return so early.

“I can’t believe she doesn’t want me!” Deke exclaimed once Fitz had finished. In the interest of full disclosure and the hopes that someone could unearth a clue that he had missed, Fitz had reported both interactions with the midwife in full detail. 

Davis wasn’t one to crack a joke, but he added, “Same here. I mean, ouch!” He was tired of living the life of a celibate monk, but he had always assumed that Khoji women were off limits. 

Bobbi ignored the humor and shook her head. “I don’t know what to make of her gesture of throwing the bracelet. Hunter, do you?”

Hunter also shook his head, as their son played at stacking makeshift blocks at his feet. “I feel bad, we know them better than anyone. But that’s a new one for me.”

“And it’s safe to assume that no one else has been hit on by any of the Khoji?” May asked the group. She looked around the group seated at the table. “Now’s the time to say if this has happened to anyone.”

It had not. Coulson then directed the team to recount any and all recent interactions with the Khoji, especially with the midwife. Jemma listened to him give the order and thought back to that time just a few years ago when Coulson had asked them to relate every detail of their interactions with and impressions of Grant Ward so they could find him. `It may have only been a few years ago, but it feels like a lifetime ago,’ Jemma thought. Back then, she never would’ve thought she’d be married to Fitz and holding their squirming baby on her lap.

The team members each obeyed Coulson’s order but there was very little to report. 

“The only time I’ve ever spoken with any Khoji is when we arrive at their fields and they tell me what they want me to do today,” Yo-Yo said flatly.

“Even the times they’ve come over for a celebration, they hardly say two words to us,” May said. 

“They never get emotional about anything,” Mack said. “Even if we mess something up, they just correct us and move on.”

“Even when I was asking them about their wedding traditions,” Coulson began, “they just answered my questions and didn’t offer any other information. Certainly no one made any sexual innuendo.”

Their comments were typical of what the others said.

Bobbi then tilted her head. “I guess now that I know….about what happened with the midwife, I do think that last time she was here, she was looking at Fitz more intently than any of them usually look at us.” She paused and added, “I remember noticing it only because she’s one of their midwives and is obviously important to us.” She shrugged. “I noticed it and then figured it was nothing.”

Fitz looked down and added, “I remember when we were first talking with the Khoji about needing midwives for Lance and Rory’s births. I may have at one point felt so desperate that I said I’d do anything if we got their best midwives to help.” He shook his head. “Is all of this because they took what I said too literally?”

No one had an answer to that. Coulson reflected on it, shook his head, and said, “I can’t recall them ever taking anything else that we’ve said to such an extreme.”

The group continued to discuss the situation well into dinnertime, their usual projects and chores put aside for now. It was such an unusual and surprising situation that everyone felt something between concern and worry. Since Bobbi and Hunter had been there longer, they were asked if any interactions with the Khoji could have been interpreted as the Khoji thinking that the team owed them sexual favors. They were blank on that. There was much speculation over what the Khoji man meant when he had said, ‘We will come to your campsite tomorrow.’

***

Fitz and Jemma were determined to spend what remained of their evening as they usually did: observing Rory, playing with him, and talking to him. In order to write down their observations about his physical and mental development, they had scraped bark off of trees to create rough parchments, and for writing utensils they had found various stones which gave off pigment when scraped along the parchment. Daisy had once watched them and remarked, “This is the most well-documented kid in history,”

The couple had laughed, and Jemma had added, “Although most of the documentation is still inside our heads,” as the stone Fitz had been using at that moment ceased to ‘write’ any longer. 

“He looks sleepier than he usually is at this hour,” Fitz observed that evening. “Maybe he’s not used to both of us sitting there with him, playing with him for half the day and it tired him out.”

Jemma nodded. They began their nighttime ritual of cuddling on the bed with Rory, quietly telling him a short story, and watching him nod off. They carefully placed him inside his crib. 

And then they were alone at last, their parenting duties concluded for the time being. It was mostly dark inside their tent but they exchanged a look.

“What a day,” Jemma breathed, sitting back onto the bed.

“Jemma,” he touched her arm, “you don’t think I did anything wrong, do you?”

“I can’t see how you possibly could’ve handled that interaction any differently. And - I know I’m repeating what everyone else said today, but her anger over your declining her offer was just – well, preposterous!”

“I know,” Fitz said, settling in next to her. The team had gone over it again and again - could there have been any other reason why the Khoji sent them home? But the interaction with the midwife was the only unusual incident.

One topic hadn’t been discussed in detail with the team but it weighed heavily on Fitz’s mind. “What if they intend to attack us, and that’s what they meant when they said they’d come here tomorrow?” Fitz asked. 

Jemma took a breath. “The thought worried me a bit too. But remember that ‘the past predicts the future.’ They’ve never attacked us before and we’ve been here more than a year and a half now. And it is hard to imagine that she is that powerful that she can compel her people into an attack where lives might be lost. And although the Khoji outnumber us, I believe we can out-strategize them. Every single person here has fought – and **thought** – their way out of far worse.”

Every reassurance that Jemma had just spoken was something that Fitz had known or thought of himself. But it was good to hear her say the words as well. Earlier he had tried to take his mind off the topic and lose himself in his caretaking duties of Rory. He had, for a moment, done so but as soon as they’d put him to bed, Fitz had felt the need to discuss the ugly situation.

“You’re right,” he said. 

“Did you want to talk about this anymore?” she asked gently.

“No, I think that was just what I needed. You?”

“I’m good now.” Jemma then reached for her husband and touched her fingertips to the side of his face. She gave him a slow kiss. “So, uh, do you want to give me a taste of what that poor, poor midwife is missing?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jemma reflexively laughed at how ridiculous she sounded, and Fitz soon joined her.

“Soon as I can stop laughing, yes,” Fitz said, still giggling.

Jemma playfully swatted him with a pillow, and then began to remove her clothing.

***


	9. The Second Year - Part B

The Second Year - Part B

 

Phil Coulson was determined to begin the next day like any other recent one. As usual, May was already up and performing Tai Chi. He tiptoed around her, grabbed his toiletry bag, and headed for the bathroom. He then reviewed what the team called their project list. They found it easiest if the list was written in the dirt, with a stick, near the lake where the ground was more pliable. (He didn’t care for FitzSimmons’ method of scraping bark to make paper and finding the rare stones that would leave behind pigment when pressed). As long as it didn’t rain overnight, the writing in the dirt remained. Even when it did rain, Coulson could usually recall and reconstruct most of the project list.

Today, of course, would be different because they wouldn’t be sending five team members to the Khoji camp. Although Coulson wanted to assign more people to soap making, he knew they needed their best brains on constructing plans to build houses. It would be a Herculean task, and the tents were good enough, but everyone had agreed that they would strongly prefer houses even if they were tiny cabins.

He noted that Bobbi and Mack had been assigned to cooking duty for the day; his stomach was starting to wake up and he hoped they’d have something ready soon.

May came up behind him and put her arm around his waist. They weren’t usually a physically demonstrative couple though no one would doubt how much they loved each other. 

“Should we be mounting a defense instead of assigning work projects?” May asked quietly as she studied the writing on the ground as well. 

“They’re not going to attack,” Coulson answered, his eyes still on the ground. “It would be shocking.”

“So were the events of yesterday. We’ve grown soft here; we all know that.” She looked at her husband. “Let me take a team to scout them out. It couldn’t hurt.”

Coulson nodded. “Take whoever you think is best. Just don’t get caught. The last thing we need is for them to accuse us of spying on them.” 

Not long afterwards, May departed with Daisy, Mack, Hunter, and Davis. She had wanted Bobbi on the mission as well, but knew that it had to be either Bobbi or Hunter because one had to stay back with the baby. Someone else could have minded Lance, but it just made more sense for one of his parents to stay with him. Parenthood was such a seismic change that it had to impact everything, even the decision of who would go on a brief scouting mission. 

May glanced at Daisy as they headed out. Parenthood had happened for her and Coulson too, she knew; just in a very roundabout and non-traditional way.

***

Coulson had asked Fitz and Jemma to devote their energies for the foreseeable future to the task of finding a way to build houses. He had warned the entire team that it would be harder than it sounded, and of course he hadn’t had to convince anyone of that fact. As Rory played in a playpen with Lance (with Bobbi keeping her eye on both boys for now), Fitz and Jemma spent their morning trying to construct model houses. One design was comprised of clay, sand, and straw and another of bamboo and palm fibers. Both had potential, but getting their hands on enough material was going to be a challenge no matter which way they went. The couple had been having an animated discussion of whether to start building larger models or whether to explore more possibilities when they heard a commotion back at camp.

They hurriedly returned to the campsite; the first thing they did was to ascertain that Rory was safe. They then saw that the commotion was simply due to Mack and Davis returning.

“Four male Khoji are heading here,” Mack said. “No more – at least not for now. No signs of them preparing for any sort of battle.”

The news came as a relief. Mack and Davis returned to their scouting mission, and Coulson prepared tea for the Khoji. Not long afterwards, the Khoji arrived, and Coulson, May, and Bobbi were sitting at the table drinking tea with them. He had asked Bobbi to join them because she spoke their language best. He had also said to the team, “Let’s just keep it to Bobbi, May, and me – we don’t want to overwhelm them with too many of us sitting around the table.”

“Should I disappear for now?” Fitz had asked.

“I don’t think so,” Coulson said. “Since the midwife isn’t one of the ones coming here. It’s up to you if you want to stay around the campsite or go back to working on the housing.”

Most of the rest of the team wished that they could stay within earshot of the discussion with the Khoji, but there was no inconspicuous way to do so, so they simply went back to their projects for the day. They would have wait for Coulson’s recap of the meeting.

Hours later, the rest of the ream received that recap and it was not good. The Khoji envoys had wasted no time in saying that they wanted to “renegotiate their terms” with the agents. “That’s a strong word,” Bobbi had said when recounting the discussion, “but ‘terms’ is the best translation I can come up with. It’s harsh.”

Coulson and the others had first asked why, and had been told that Fitz had caused offense with the young midwife. Coulson had pressed and pressed on that issue, asking what specifically caused the offense, insisting that Fitz had meant no harm, asserting that Fitz’s behavior had been acceptable by any standards. The Khoji would give away nothing, only saying ‘He should have done what she asked’. Coulson added, to his team, “It was like talking to a brick wall. I even asked how they would have reacted had one of our ladies insisted on…the same thing from one of their men, and all they could say was that they believe that Fitz owes the midwife a debt and has to do what she says.”

Jemma listened silently but couldn’t help clenching her fists. She imagined that if anyone were looking at her, they would see her eyes flashing. Throughout her life she had helped many people with illness and injury, and she never felt that they owed her – and certainly not in that manner! 

Fitz meanwhile was fleetingly glad to have Rory as a distraction. The toddler wanted to crawl all over the place, so Fitz alternated between following him, holding him, and trying to soothe him. At least it gave his eyes and mind somewhere else to go during an uncomfortable discussion. He knew that Jemma knew he needed the diversion and thus was stepping back and letting Fitz tend to their son solo right now.

Coulson then went on to describe the Khoji’s new “terms”. They were harsh. They wanted 10 adults – not just five anymore – to work in their village every single day, no exceptions. That would leave just two adults back at the agents’ campsite.

“So all of this is just an excuse to get more work out of us,” Daisy commented. “It has nothing to do with them thinking that Fitz really offended anyone.”

Fitz tried to quietly breathe a sigh of relief at Daisy’s comment. He hoped – and thought – that no reasonable person could blame him for the situation. It was nice to hear Daisy say it. Fitz glanced at Jemma and saw that she, too, appreciated Daisy’s words.

“We’ll never get anything done that way!” Deke exclaimed. Two adults comprised the bare minimum the agents would need to take care of the babies, and do the team’s own cooking, cleaning, and other maintenance chores. Unless most everyone wanted to sacrifice a lot of sleep, the agents would never be able to build houses or undertake their other projects to use as leverage with the Khoji such as making soap and clothes.

“And what if we refuse?” Mack asked.

Coulson went on to explain that they probed the Khoji heavily on that point as well. They wouldn’t provide any specifics, saying only “we will no longer be friends.” Coulson had asked how long the new terms would be in effect for and was told “indefinitely.” 

The team then turned to discussing options if they did refuse. They had always attempted to estimate how many adults comprised the Khoji but it was difficult because they never saw them all in one place at a time. They didn’t know their names and they were never given the opportunity to get to know them personally, so it was hard to distinguish individuals. The team’s best guess was that the Khoji had between 150-200 adults. 

They then assessed their weaponry. The Khoji were expert hunters and had plenty of hunting gear – spears, and bows and arrows. They truly had no idea how many weapons the Khoji possessed but it was not unreasonable to guess that most of the adult males hunted and probably had their own gear. The agents themselves had almost no weaponry. They had bartered for a few spears and bows and arrows early on, but hunting had never taken off for the agents since it was usually faster to just barter for meat. (They did have snares, though no one liked the job of skinning and preparing the small animals they trapped).

The agents then spent some time discussing options if they refused and if the Khoji did mount an attack. Their campsite was not ideally situated. The dense forest bordered it on one side; pretty much every other side left their campsite completely visible. 

“Even if we do fend off an attack – or repeated attacks - how self-sufficient are we at this point?” May asked. “We get most of our food from trading our work.”

The team then discussed May’s question as it was a salient one. In addition to occasionally snaring rabbits and squirrels, the group had a few other sources of food apart from what they traded. They continued to forage wild acorns and had built up a good stockpile. When she had been pregnant, Jemma had spent ample time determining what else could be foraged from nearby and eaten. There were greens that tasted like watercress, another green called purslane (usually considered a weed, but edible and nutritious), plenty of mushrooms, nettles (which, like acorns, required processing in order to become edible), wild onions and garlic, and usually an array of berries. The fruit trees they had planted would take years to bear fruit though.

“Can we live off of that?” Mack asked.

“If we had to, I think yes,” Jemma replied. “We’d probably have to spend much of each day foraging, and we’d probably be hungry often though - unless our hunting skills make a marked improvement.” She watched Fitz corral Rory and wished she hadn’t recently finished weaning the toddler. He had eagerly taken to the mashed oats, fruit, and eggs they got from the Khoji. Her own stomach grumbled, and she remembered the hungry days back on Maveth. 

“We’ve been working hard to be more self-sufficient,” Coulson said. “But we need more time.”

“We really had thought we’d have the time,” Daisy added. 

The team then began discussing options. They could go along with the Khoji’s new terms and prepare to work harder without much chance at ever becoming reliant. They could attempt to convince them that their terms were unfair, although they had had no success in that earlier and thus no reason to believe the Khoji would see their point of view. They could resist the Khoji and prepare to possibly fend off attacks while working to become self-sufficient. They could preemptively attack the Khoji but that was out of the question for many reasons, morality first and foremost. Or they could pack up and leave, pulling out the maps they had created when they’d first arrived. Of course if they did so, the Khoji might come after them and attack them – and even if they didn’t do that, the team would find it much harder to live as nomads instead of in a settled campsite. 

“Well, there is another option,“ Fitz began glumly, looking downwards. “I could – “

He was cut off by a chorus of “no’s”. Daisy summed it up by saying, “There’s no way. Any of us can place ourselves in your shoes and agree that that’s just wrong.”

“Besides,” Coulson added, “I’m with Daisy’s theory that this was all just an excuse for them to get more work out of us.”

Deke cleared his throat. “I could put on a Scottish accent. I mean seriously, did you ask them again if the midwife would take me instead of Fitz??”

“Deke, I offered you up each time she propositioned me!” Fitz waved his hands, exasperated. “She doesn’t want you.”

Davis had a wry smile on his face and said to Deke, “Don’t feel bad, buddy. Remember she didn’t want me either.”

“Does the midwife have a sister?” Deke went on. “I mean shit, the last time I had sex was—“

“Would you shut up!” Fitz silenced Deke.

As the team continued to discuss their options, Jemma spoke up.

“What about a compromise?” she asked. “Tomorrow instead of sending 10 of us over, we send eight. Tell them it’s the best we can do right now. See if they accept it, and if they do, then maybe in a little while we send seven people instead of eight and see how that goes….” she let her voice trail off.

“I like that idea best so far,” Coulson said. “The downsides of every other option are pretty serious.”

“What if we show up and they’re pissed that we only sent eight?” Mack asked.

“I’m not sure what they’ll do,” Bobbi said. “But I doubt that they’ll just start attacking us.”

“Good,” Coulson said. “Because as good as we are, we’re unarmed and I don’t know how well we could take on 75-100 men who have spears and bows and arrows.”

“Let me at ‘em,” May said. “I could take down a few dozen.”

***

The next few weeks were a time of transition and change. The Khoji were not happy when only eight agents showed up the following day, but they didn’t protest. They did, however, insist that the agents stay later than they ever had. Coulson, Bobbi, and Hunter tried several times to have another discussion with whoever the overseers of the day were, but they made no progress. The atmosphere felt contentious and cloudy. 

The agents resisted the Khoji as best as they could – arriving later in the day after the previous day’s group had stayed late, for example. That would result in harsh words and many tense exchanges. Again, the agents would try to reason with the Khoji but again they didn’t make any progress. The team would debate among themselves what time to leave the Khoji fields on a given day.

The Khoji never physically attacked them when they left earlier than the Khoji wanted or arrived later the next day than they wanted. But they would verbally berate them. The Khoji’s biggest weapon was, of course, food. They would provide far less of it any time the agents were deemed to have arrived late or left early. Again, the team tried to discuss and haggle but the Khoji didn’t listen. The team just didn’t have much to use as bargaining chips since they had so little time to make clothing or soap, or forage acorns.

The team continued to debate and discuss among themselves how much they should resist the Khoji and what format that resistance should take. They felt the pain when the Khoji reduced their rations. Whichever agents stayed behind at camp on a given day had to spend most of their time foraging. And of course with two toddlers to take care of, they either had to leave one adult behind to provide childcare or attempt to forage while keeping two adventurous toddlers from harm. “It was easier when I could just strap him to my back!” Jemma exclaimed one day. “Now all he wants to do is crawl everywhere.”

The Khoji themselves, too, at times seemed unsure of what their new terms meant. One day the agents had left the Khoji fields early (“early” as defined by their new terms). The following day, the group which was staying behind at camp was visited by about 10 Khoji, mostly women. As the agents prepared to boil water for tea, the Khoji waved them aside and simply began grabbing items from the agents’ kitchen. They also strode up to the clothesline and grabbed a few towels and clothes. Bobbi had tried to talk with the Khoji, but again was ignored. “Do we stop them?” Jemma had whispered. Bobbi looked at the items they took, decided the team could live without them, and whispered back, “I don’t want to risk this turning into a war. Maybe we just let them do it this time and stop them the next?” 

Neither was sure if they had done the right thing in not protesting, and of course the subject was discussed at length with the team afterwards. Unfortunately the team’s evening sessions around the fire were greatly reduced since most of the group was too tired by the time they returned. 

The day after the visit from the Khoji women, Fitz and Jemma were among the four agents left back at camp as the rest of the team headed out at first light. The couple was at the lake, giving Rory and Lance their baths. 

“At least the Khoji just took one of our tubs,” Jemma said, as she soaped up Rory. He liked bath time and splashed around happily in the tub. Seeing Rory having so much fun eased both of their hearts – despite the long task list they had ahead of themselves that day. Lance didn’t enjoy bath time the way Rory did, and they knew he would be a challenge.

“He’s such a good boy,” Jemma mused, looking at Rory and smiling. “Despite everything going on with the Khoji, I can’t be too upset. I’m here with you, and our boy is thriving.”

“Same,” Fitz said quietly. He was distracting Lance by handing the toddler blocks and other small objects, which Lance enjoyed throwing and sometimes deliberately dropping.

“What if she – the midwife – decides to pay us a visit next time?” Fitz asked.

“I suppose we don’t know what the Khoji might do next,” Jemma admitted. “It wouldn’t be unheard of.”

“It’s odd that I haven’t seen her since the last incident. Every time I get to their fields, I worry that she’ll be there but she hasn’t been.”

Jemma nodded, and started gently rinsing the soap off Rory.

“I hate that the team is suffering because of me, you know?” Fitz said, his voice still low. At Jemma’s tilted head, he added, “I know, I know – no one blames me for it. Everyone says they would’ve responded the same way. Everyone also shudders at the idea of being forced to sleep with someone they don’t want. But there’s no way around me feeling some guilt,” he sighed. 

“Oh, Fitz. Sometimes I think you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. We’ll get through this.” She hoisted Rory out of the tub and laid him onto the blanket.

He handed her the small towel so she could begin to pat Rory dry. 

Jemma continued, “And there are those….creative solutions we’ve been discussing. Perhaps we will try them sometime.”

“We might have to. Because right now we’re working a lot more and getting less in return. And ---“

Rory squirmed out of Jemma’s grasp and animatedly began to crawl away.

“Get back here, young man!” Fitz called out, laughing. “You need your diaper!”

Since Fitz was still entangled in keeping Lance occupied, Jemma rose to her feet and caught Rory. She laid him back down on the blanket. “Wandering about naked simply will not do,” she giggled. “Although I certainly long for the day that you are potty-trained!” She then planted kisses on her toddler’s face. Fitz reached over and did the same. Then he reached for Jemma and kissed her mouth.

At that moment, Lance began to wail and call out for his mother. “I know, I know,” Fitz said, pulling him into his arms. “You miss Mummy. And your day is about to get much worse, as it’s time for your bath.”

They bathed Lance as quickly as possible and then headed back for the campsite. They had a long task list for the day and not enough people or time to perform them all.


	10. The Second Year - Part C

Three months passed with more of the same. The agents continued to attempt to have a dialogue with the Khoji, but were rebuffed each time, almost to the extent that the Khoji would just cross their arms and walk away each time one of the agents tried to open their mouth.

The Khoji continued to keep their rations at the bare minimum, and happily decreased them anytime the agents left their fields before sundown. (They did, at least, accept a daily team of eight agents instead of ten. That was one win for SHIELD).

The team tried to think of what else they could offer the Khoji to get them to thaw out. But long ago, before this “cold war”, Fitz had already offered his best thoughts on how the Khoji could improve their farming techniques and some of his ideas had been implemented. The team didn’t really have any other ideas they could offer them, especially since the Khoji had been doing this far longer than they. (As Daisy had summed up: “We freely offered our best ideas back when we were friends. They took ‘em, and now they’re just going to work us to the bone.”)

The midwife had approached Fitz twice more, and both interactions were much like the previous ones. On the occasions when Jemma was part of the team working in the Khoji camp, the midwife mostly ignored her although Jemma did see her scowling at her twice. 

Because of their workloads, the agents hadn’t been able to do much to build up their supply of foraged or canned food. They had a stockpile, but it was a small one.

****

One morning Fitz found Jemma behind a bush, retching. He waited until she was finished.

“So,” he said softly, touching her back.

Jemma returned his gaze and nodded. He didn’t need to ask, and she didn’t need to tell. He knew full well when her last period had ended and when she had been due for another. He knew that she had been fatigued the past few days, and now nauseous two mornings in a row. He remembered all of these signs from the last time too.

“Let’s take a walk,” Jemma said, reaching into a pocket to retrieve a few mint leaves. She popped them into her mouth. Rory wouldn’t wake up for a bit, so they had some time.

Holding hands, they walked towards the lake.

“The others are going to either think we’re idiots who cannot count, or that we just cannot control ourselves,” Jemma said, forcing a laugh.

“Well, let’s hope they think the latter!” Fitz exclaimed. “I would think that over the previous few years we’ve proven that we…are perhaps of above-average intellect.”

They each smiled at his comment. Jemma’s expression then turned a mixture of serious and exasperated. “But how did this happen? We were so careful! I’m – I’m flummoxed!”

Indeed they had been careful. Like before, they used the fertility awareness technique – and they had expanded the number of days they avoided intercourse in order to be even more cautious. When they had it, they used withdrawal as well. They had plenty of other means to pleasure each other too, of course, so they never felt deprived. And now Rory was about a year old and Jemma was pregnant again.

“I can’t explain it,” Fitz shook his head. “I truly can’t. Maybe the universe wants us pregnant?”

Jemma laughed, “Here we are two scientists and…honestly that is the best explanation we can come up with. How pathetic is that?” She squeezed his hand and added, with a twinkle in her eyes, “Well, then if anyone asks, I do rather like saying that we simply cannot control ourselves.”

Fitz had to silently admit that he sometimes liked the idea of feeling at the mercy of his biology, at least in this area. But he tried to not get roused right now; Jemma obviously was not feeling great, and besides he had a long day of work ahead of him. 

“I don’t suppose Bobbi and Hunter are pregnant again, are they?” he asked.

“No,” Jemma said. It was impossible to hide these things when one’s washed-out pads were hung up to dry with the communal laundry. Between that and Jemma’s nausea, most of the team would know soon if they didn’t suspect already.

“So,” Jemma began, “apart from being baffled as to why it happened again, how do you feel about it?” she asked, stopping and turning towards him.

“Over the moon, to be honest,” Fitz said, with a genuine smile. “I know we’d talked about having two. And I don’t care about all this rubbish with the Khoji. I want this.”

“Me too!” Jemma exclaimed, and pulled him into a hug. “That is how I feel.” She then began to pull him into a kiss, but suddenly lurched away as another wave of nausea overtook her.

***

A few days later, the team sat around the table at dinnertime. Dinner was now a few hours later than it had been before and more sparse than anyone would have liked. Both of the toddlers had been put to bed since the hour was late. 

Fitz subtly spooned some of his portion onto Jemma’s plate. She paused and considered shaking her head or returning the food but instead pressed her lips together and gave a slight nod. She would discuss the topic with him later, and it would be a hard one. She didn’t want him deprived, but she did need more food now. But no – inwardly she decided that Fitz couldn’t be the only one to sacrifice his rations for her. Instead Jemma would make a case to the others that she needed more from their stockpile. That, of course, would mean telling the others that she was pregnant.

“So, um, are we going to have another bundle of joy soon?” Daisy asked, smiling and looking at Jemma. 

Fitz and Jemma had already discussed with each other that there was no point in hiding it. A group of skilled spies knew how to read clues. Of course Jemma’s morning sickness had been a fairly clear one.

The couple looked at each other and smiled. “If all goes well, yes,” Jemma said.

“So what happened, mate?” Hunter began, smiling and nudging Fitz’s arm “You couldn’t control yourselves?”

Such a question, back on earth a couple years ago, likely would’ve been considered a breach of etiquette even coming from Hunter. But now the team was tired, their filters were off, they were used to sharing personal information sitting around a fire in the dark, they had spent a couple years overhearing each other doing things like using the bathroom and having sex, and so protocol was just looser. 

“That’s exactly it,” Fitz looked at Hunter, returning his smile. “We were just overcome by lust.” Fitz couldn’t squelch his grin; being sarcastic was fun, even though he usually directed it only at Deke. Several members of the team were smiling along with Fitz. Fitz quietly wondered too for a moment why he was feeling pride. Was it something primal, something that made him feel more masculine given that his wife was pregnant again? 

“Okay, but if I may be serious for a moment,” Hunter began again, “is that what really happened or was it intentional?”

Jemma didn’t love the direct question being asked in front of the entire group, despite how candid the team usually was with one another now. And she liked seeing sarcastic Fitz a second ago, so she responded with her own, “It’s just that these two scientists can’t count properly.” And she punctuated her remark with a titled head and bulged eyes.

“That doesn’t give the rest of us much hope!” Bobbi said, aiming for a joking tone herself, but wanting to turn the conversation in a more serious direction. “I mean,” Bobbi paused for a second, looked at Hunter, and then continued, “Hunter and I aren’t looking to have a second one. At least not any time soon. We thought we had the tracking of the days down.”

“Well,” Jemma began with a smile. She felt more tolerant of having the discussion now since it was going in the direction of biology. “There could be any number of explanations. The fertility awareness method never is 100% effective. Perhaps my cycles don’t follow a firm pattern, and perhaps this alien land has something to do with it.” She paused, shrugged, and added, “And we do get overcome with absolutely brazen lust upon occasion as well.” She turned towards Fitz and winked.

Jemma’s last sentence was so surprising – whether it was an attempt at humor or to shock the team or to just get them to cease their questioning – that most of the group joined her in a friendly laugh.

Except for Deke who asked, “So we’re sure the midwife doesn’t want me or have a sister who does? Because this is not just fair. I get ‘overcome with absolute lust’ sometimes too, and I don’t have ---.”

“Deke!” Fitz exclaimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, but I promise more very soon!


	11. The Third Year - Part A

Despite everything, Fitz was happy. On the way home from a very long day at the Khoji fields, he silently counted his blessings as he plodded along the trail with the others.

Jemma. She was here with him and they weren’t separated by time or space or another nearly-insurmountable barrier. Never before had they had so much uninterrupted time together, waking up together and going to bed together every single night. They played with Rory together and read to him. They quietly ate breakfast and dinner next to each other, drinking weak tea, day after day. They never grew bored with each other; even living in the same setting, they always had things to talk about or speculate on. He knew that they could have been separated as they had been when she was sent to Maveth or when Fitz was left behind as the rest of the team went into the future, and that thought was horrific just to think about. The fact that he was with Jemma each day made up for every downside in his life currently, and he never took it for granted.

Rory. Their son – now 18 months old – was healthy and developing well. According to anything that they could ever recall having read about toddler development, Rory was progressing swimmingly. Mack was now comfortable talking about Hope and sharing openly with the parents what he remembered about child development; receiving confirmation from Mack that Rory was thriving provided another level of reassurance. Sitting with Jemma each morning to discuss Rory, planning what to teach him next and how to teach it, provided a new type of fulfillment for Fitz.

And Jemma was due again in a matter of weeks. The pregnancy might not have been planned, but both Fitz and Jemma still felt ecstatic. Once Rory had arrived, they had known that someday they would want to have a brother or sister for him.

Fitz still enjoyed the outdoors too. Perhaps the six months in the black ops prison would remain seared into his brain forever but Fitz was thankful for each breath of fresh air he took, each time he looked up and saw a golden sun, each time the sun hit the green leaves on a tree.

He also counted his extended family among his blessings. Although there were plenty of disagreements and Deke just worked Fitz’s every nerve whenever he opened his mouth, the team was priceless. If someone needed something, someone else helped them. If Fitz and Jemma needed an hour or two alone, they could count on someone else to watch Rory. After Jemma of course, Fitz was closest with Mack, Hunter, and Daisy - and although everyone was constantly working, they still had so much time together to deepen their friendships. Sometimes it felt uncomfortable living among so many people who knew you like the back of their hands, but mostly it provided a sense of reassurance.

Everyone was healthy too. Fitz wanted to shake his head to think that a few short years ago, the team constantly had faced life-threatening injuries; various team members had nursed bullet-wounds and any other manner of injury, and that had just been the way they’d lived their lives. On the rare days when the team had time to swim together in the lake, one could glance around and see a lifetime’s worth of scars on everyone’s bodies. But the scars were, at least, faded and not accompanied by any recent ones.

In fact, other than Deke’s constant complaining, as far as Fitz could tell, the team members were content. Everyone’s personality was different just as everyone’s reaction to their situation was different; some experienced more or less angst over the Khoji, some experienced resignation over the fact that they couldn’t return to Earth, some were more chipper than others. But most seemed at least content.

Fitz also added the weather to his list. It never got too cold; at night a blanket and sometimes a second layer over your clothing were all you needed. On the flip side, sometimes it was too hot and sometimes a sticky humidity would set in. But it always broke sooner or later; a cool evening or crisp morning would arrive to relieve you from the heat, or a nice breeze would cool the sweat on your brow.

Another plus he had to add to his list: the challenges they faced here weren’t life-threatening, and they certainly didn’t face any “extinction-level events” anymore. No LMDs, no Kree, no Hydra. Fitz and the others would marvel at how long they had – during their other lives – just endured having their very existence and the fate of the world hanging by a thread day in and day out. They had lived with the knowledge that each day they woke up might be their last. Without that level of threat hanging over their heads now, they each felt much more stable and peaceful.

True, the Khoji’s behavior had not improved at all, but Fitz was of the mindset that at their core they were more along the lines of spoiled children with too much power, rather than anything truly evil. And he certainly had seen his share of pure evil during his lifetime.

Of course, Fitz thought as he walked, there were plenty of downsides to life now. Jemma would have to give birth without a midwife. She’d given birth before without modern medicine and all had gone well, but now they were without medicine or midwife. And more alarmingly, they had failed twice to prevent pregnancy. As happy as they were with Rory and with the impending arrival, they absolutely would need to find a way to prevent future pregnancies. (Bobbi was pregnant again too now, which had prompted both couples to sigh and conclude only that, “this planet wants us pregnant”.) 

The Khoji continued to be unreasonable, Fitz and the others worked long days for too little food. They often had sore backs and tired feet. The team spent any spare time on foraging or trapping food; washing clothes; cleaning; skinning and gutting the animals they trapped; repairing tents; repairing worn clothing. They had no time to gather enough materials to build houses, and just once Fitz wished he could eat until his stomach felt like bursting, or least until it was completely full. But still they had food and it was enough to keep them going and keep them healthy.

He missed his lab, he missed his life’s work. Of course he and Jemma would shrug and say that this planet was their lab, and raising Rory their new life’s work. Thinking through the best way to raise Rory and what to show him next put both of their brains to good use. Truly any time Fitz missed the lab, he knew he would never trade it for all this time with Jemma and Rory. Not for a million years.

And yes, he did miss things like watching football and drinking an ice-cold pint. But almost any situation was tolerable if Jemma was by his side. That evening, the work group continued to plod towards their home camp where the aroma of dinner awaited them, and there was Jemma - by his side once again.

 

***

The agents did their best to keep tabs on the Khoji. Despite long, tedious days working in their fields with little contact with any of the Khoji, this elite team of spies had their methods. Gradually, they had been coming to the realization that “something was up.” Each evening the team calibrated around the fire.

“The clues all add up,” Coulson said, summarizing what he and the others had been finding out over the past few weeks. He was especially glad that they had devoted the time, early on, to learning their language. “They keep talking about their enemies to the west, they hardly talk about – or to – us, they’re stockpiling weapons.”

The Khoji had mentioned having enemies shortly after Bobbi and Hunter – and then the rest of the team – had arrived. None of the agents had ever seen these enemies, as they had been told that their lands were “far to the west”. The agents had gathered that their largest enemy group was called the Babla, and that the Khoji had been at peace with them for more than a decade.

“Something definitely has changed between the Khoji and the Babla,” Bobbi concluded. “I’m not sure what, but they keep talking about war.”

“None of us have ever actually seen…the Babla though,” Daisy added.

“That’s right,” Coulson confirmed. “But some of the items the Khoji used to trade with us, we think they get from trading with them. Apparently they live near the sea, so any of the shells, dried fish, or seaweed we used to get were probably from the Babla.”

“Do we have any idea what the – the possible battle might be over?” Piper asked.

“All we can guess is land disputes,” Coulson answered. “Seems the two groups have fought about land for as long as anyone can remember.”

“Do we have an opportunity then?” Fitz began. “If the Khoji are going to be in a fight, maybe we can offer our help.”

“I think it’s worth a try,” Mack said.

Bobbi tilted her head. “Just bear in mind, that we only have 12 adults. And only six men. When Hunter and I first arrived, it – well – it was clear that they thought the idea of a woman having a weapon and using it was rather odd.” She paused, “We can offer our help, but I can hear them already snorting and saying that six men aren’t going to make a difference in any battle.”

“But we know strategy,” Fitz insisted. “We have some very experienced tacticians. That might be the best way we can help them.”

“The Khoji never listen to anything we have to say nowadays,” Coulson remarked. “And I can just hear them saying that we don’t know their terrain like they do. But it couldn’t hurt. Let’s offer to help them.”

Jemma added, “And remember – we think they only have about 75-100 adult men. If our estimate is right, I would actually say that six more is….not insignificant.” She placed a hand on her belly. The last thing she wanted was for Fitz to go off into battle, and the thought made her queasy. But his point about offering tactical advice was spot on, she knew.

“And one other thing,” Mack added. “We need to tell them that we want five people to stay behind here each day, not four. If there are enemies out there, we need to patrol our campsite.” 

People empathically nodded. The Babla might live “far to the west” but if they were preparing to attack the Khoji, the team needed to protect themselves too.

That night, Jemma hardly slept. She knew the final few weeks of pregnancy meant restless nights anyway; her body was preparing itself for late night feedings and a crying infant. Their bed was comfortable but at some point, it didn’t make a difference any longer. Especially not with the impending arrival gleefully kicking away.

Jemma shifted position and sensed that Fitz was awake. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m probably keeping you up.”

“It’s not you,” Fitz whispered back. They had to keep their voices down so as to not wake Rory. They had discussed with Bobbi and Hunter that when the boys were a bit older, perhaps they’d construct a small tent for them in between the couples’ tents – just to give the kids their “own room”, not to mention the parents some privacy.

“Suppose I don’t need to say the obvious,” Fitz whispered. “I’ve grown to like not spending every moment fearing for our lives and fighting some battle.”

“Me too,” Jemma whispered. 

“Plus you’re pregnant, we have Rory to take care of, and without a gun I’m fairly useless in a fight.” He paused, “Okay, I know you’re about to say that I’m not useless in a fight, but let’s just agree that I’m not great at it either. And neither of us has trained in years.”

“War would be a disaster no matter how we look at it,” she added. “Unless we can somehow convince the Khoji to let us strategize with them. Your idea was the best one.” She sighed. “I just worry that it might be as Coulson said – the Khoji never listen to anything we have to say anymore, so they might not care for our thoughts on battle tactics.”

She shifted position again, returning to lying on her side, spooned against Fitz. “Just as you said, I’ve grown to like…this kind of life here. Not tensing up for a fight or nursing an injury or constantly worrying about you getting hurt. Now I just feel queasy thinking about how this might play out,” she added. “It was different when we didn’t have Rory.”

“I know.” He kissed the back of her neck.

“If a war is coming, I’m not sure what we would do with the boys,” Jemma speculated. “Do we hide them somewhere? In the forest? Or do we all flee as a group? We just don’t have the numbers compared to either tribe.”

They were both quiet for several moments. Then Fitz spoke, “Well, what can we do? We need to take it one day at a time. Maybe the Khoji are wrong and a battle or a war isn’t about to happen. Maybe it will happen and will be quick and far away from us. And we do have the best tacticians with us – we will figure out what to do. You and I might not be military strategists but we are good at finding solutions to problems. We will figure out what to do with the boys, if we have to hide. We’re bordered by an immense forest. We’ll find somewhere to hide if it comes to that.” He paused. “The last few years have been easy compared to what we went through before, but we’ve proven over and over again that we can handle whatever the universe throws at us.”

Jemma exhaled. “You’re right. I feel a little more calm now.” She turned her head around to kiss him. “Thank you.”

TO BE CONTINUED


	12. The Third Year - Part B

Over the next few days, the team continued to covertly observe the Khoji to gain intel into the situation. They learned that the Khoji believed that a battle against their enemies – if not an outright war – was inevitable. The Khoji also believed that the Babla had slightly fewer fighters than they did. 

The agents approached the Khoji and offered their help. They looked at Coulson, laughed, and said, “You have only six grown men. And you are too old to be a good fighter.” Coulson had learned when to argue and when to let something pass. So he instead pressed his point that the agents had fought many battles “back where we came from” and that they would like to help the Khoji with strategy. That offer was received with the same derision as the previous one. “This is our land,” they had replied. “We know the land and we know the Babla. You don’t.”

The agents then did something that they weren’t proud of: they launched a covert mission into the Khoji territory to steal weaponry. They all knew that stealing was wrong, but they had to defend themselves given the looming battle, knowing that they might get caught in the crossfire. They stole only enough so that each adult now had either a spear or a bow and arrow. Bobbi had the most experience with hand-held weapons, and she began training each team member who needed it. Fortunately the Khoji were distracted enough that the mission had been a success and that they often didn’t notice when the agents sent only six field workers on a given day instead of seven. (They did keep their food rations to a bare minimum though so the agents had to constantly forage for food).

“I got something for you,” May said, approaching Jemma and Bobbi after dinner. May had been part of the successful party which had stolen weapons that day. 

“Oh?” Jemma perked up. She had already been given her bow and arrow and hadn’t been sure whether to laugh or cry. She had simply looked at Fitz as he held his own bow and arrow, and listened to him say ‘Well, we both learned to fire guns, we can learn this.’

May reached into a knapsack and pulled out two sponges, handing one each to Bobbi and Jemma.

It took Jemma a second to register what it was, but then she remembered that soon after they had arrived, Bobbi had said that some of the Khoji women used a “sponge from the sea” as birth control.

“So….someone’s used contraceptive?” Bobbi asked, laughing, as she held the gift. Jemma chuckled at Bobbi’s comment.

May didn’t crack a smile. “I don’t think they’re used. They were in a warehouse, on a cart with a bunch of other supplies. Maybe stuff that they had bartered from the Babla back when they were at peace – that’s our best guess.”

“Ah,” Jemma acknowledged.

May then smiled and added, “Since we all know that either you can’t count or you can’t control yourselves.”

“You’re not accepting ‘the universe wants us pregnant’ excuse?” Bobbi asked.

“No one buys that. And no one believes you can’t count so…” May let her voice trail off, though she had the faintest glint in her eye that let them know that she was joking.

“Well then, let’s hope these things work,” Jemma said, turning the sponge over in her hands and peering at it. “I think we are to sew a string inside it so it can be removed.” 

Jemma then added, her voice down to a whisper, “In case it comes up…did you get one for Yo-Yo too?”

May shook her head and answered straightforwardly. “I only saw two. And she’s never been pregnant.”

Bobbi then took on a playful tone. “Did you steal something fun for Coulson?”

May turned to walk away and answered, “I might have.”

Bobbi and Jemma looked at each other. “She’s not going to tell us what she got for him, is she?” Bobbi asked. “I wonder what it was. Damn, not knowing is going to bother me!”

“Thank you, May!” Jemma called as May walked away.

“Yes, thank you,” Bobbi added. 

Hunter and Fitz then approached the two women. “We’re thanking May for what? I mean, besides our shiny new weapons,” Hunter asked. “I won’t add that I feel woefully inadequate given that my name is Hunter and I still only have a vague idea what to do with my new spear.”

As Hunter spoke, Bobbi wordlessly held up the sponge.

“Ah. To help with dishwashing,” Hunter said, starting to realize that wasn’t it.

Bobbi made a face. “No. I have to stick this up my crotch before we have sex.”

“Oh!” Hunter raised his eyebrows. “Well, fortunately we don’t have to worry about pregnancy right now since we’re already expecting again.”

“Exactly.” Bobbi took a pointed look at their tent as she rose to her feet. “I’m already pregnant, Lance is asleep, so come on. Now’s our chance.”

Hunter grinned and said, “See you later, mates!” to Fitz and Simmons.

As the other couple walked away, Jemma looked at Fitz. She still held the sponge. “Well, it couldn’t hurt to try this.”

Fitz studied the sponge closely. “But please tell me no one’s used this one before?” he asked.

“I surely hope not,” Jemma muttered, somewhere between bemused, exasperated, and resigned at their limited options regarding birth control.

Seeing the look on her face, Fitz decided to go for a lighter tone. “Maybe it belonged to our dear midwife. Think how happy she would be, to be connected to me in this way!”

Despite herself, Jemma laughed and then shook her head. “I’d toss this at you,” she said, holding the sponge, “but I really don’t want it to hit the ground and get dirty. Or dirtier. Given that I have to stick this thing up inside of me.”

 

***

The rumblings of war continued. The team spent any free moment training to use their new weaponry – with the exception of Jemma who was due any day now and too encumbered to wield her bow and arrow. 

And they discussed what to do next. “We’re still grossly outnumbered,” Coulson said. “For all we know the Babla could overrun the Khoji and then attack us next. Our camp is within spitting distance of theirs.”

“And we can’t get the Khoji to want to work with us – or even talk to us - no matter what we say or do,” Mack said. 

They kicked around a number of options.

One option was to wait for a battle and show up, fighting side by side with the Khoji, thus earning their admiration and respect. (“Until the Khoji realize we used weapons that we stole from them,” Daisy murmured. There was also risk of loss of life, risk of capture, and the team could assume the Khoji might be unpleasantly surprised – or even stunned - to see women fighting in combat.) 

Another option was to wait by the sidelines and stay out of any fight. They would need to be prepared to defend their campsite though, if the Babla overran the Khoji and decided to attack S.H.I.E.L.D. But if the Khoji won, the agents could repeat their offer of assistance. They could also help tend to any wounded Khoji, although their only doctor was about to give birth any day. 

Another option was to pack up and leave the area if fighting got bad. Given that they were so heavily outnumbered and they had two little children and two pregnant women, perhaps relocating away from any fighting was the best strategy. But relocation would not be easy – they had no carts, no pack animals; they would be able to take only what they could carry.

Then team discussed a hybrid approach: maintaining and guarding their campsite while sending the more vulnerable members of their team into hiding – perhaps somewhere in that dense forest. Provisioning two locations would not be easy, but they had to admit that they had three people (the two toddlers and a very pregnant Simmons) who were basically defenseless. 

They even turned over some outlandish ideas such as trying to broker a peace deal between the two parties (probably a losing proposition since the Babla didn’t know who they were, the Khoji didn’t listen to a word they said, and the Babla probably spoke a different language) or trying to befriend the Babla (although actually finding the Babla’s campsite and just wandering into it when they were probably about to go to war didn’t seem like a brilliant strategy. They couldn’t just ping the Babla’s cellphones or send a drone after them to determine exactly where they were). 

The discussion continued well into the night until the team sketched out a plan. 

***

“It’s so strange how you can almost feel it in the air,” Fitz said, instinctively looking in the direction of the Khoji lands. 

Jemma nodded. “There’s an electricity.” She added, “Well, perhaps we only feel the electricity because intellectually we know that the battle is about to start.”

“Our brains haven’t forgotten the past few years before we got here,” Fitz said quietly. “They’re tensing us up to be ready for battle.” 

Rory spoke. “Want Mummy now.”

Fitz had Rory strapped to his front, as today was a big day of preparations for the agents and there was much to do around the campsite. Right now the best place for the toddler was nestled inside his makeshift baby carrier. 

“She’s right here,” Fitz said, walking closer to Jemma. 

Rory extended his arms, and Jemma reached over and kissed Rory’s face. “I can’t hold you now, Rory,” Jemma said. “I’m too big and my back hurts a bit.”

“Mummy,” Rory said more insistently. 

“I know,” Jemma said, her eyes twinkling as she looked at her son. She kissed him again. “Daddy has you now.”

Fitz caressed the back of Rory’s head. “And Mummy’s right here if you need her. We’re both right here for you.”

Rory certainly was picking up on the fact that the agents and their campsite were buzzing with activity, people scurrying about. Daisy and May had returned with the latest, and the Khoji-Babla battle was going to start any moment now. In fact the Khoji had been so preoccupied with the pending fight that if they even noticed that the agents hadn’t shown up for work the past two days, they hadn’t said anything.

A small part of Fitz felt anxious over the uncertainty of everything. But he suppressed that part of his mind given that he had a wife who could go into labor at any time and a toddler who needed to stay calm. Fitz knew he was allotted just a small corner of his mind to quietly freak out, and the rest of it had to be devoted to fulfilling the team’s plans and doing his part to keep his family safe.

Coulson was making the rounds as the team went about their preparations. “How’s everything here?” he asked.

“We’re ready,” Fitz said.

Coulson gently slapped Fitz on the back and touched Jemma’s arm. “I knew you would be.”

Also ready were two large carts stocked full of supplies. The agents had once again resorted to stealing from the Khoji. They needed to give themselves the option of fleeing quickly and taking more with them besides only what they could carry; they needed carts. They also knew that Jemma could go into labor at any time, so one of the carts would serve as her transportation if needed. The question of whether or not to again steal from the Khoji had been hotly debated, with some agents thinking that the Khoji had been working them to the bone for two years now and that this was fair recompense, while others hoped to someday attempt to repay the Khoji. But none could argue with the idea that they did need “wheels”, if they had to resort to their backup plan.

Their main plan had put the team’s tactical brilliance and innovation to the test. Their campsite was now booby-trapped. 

***

In the end, the agents’ preparation hadn’t mattered much. The Khoji were – as Mack said when he returned from the last scouting mission – “getting their asses kicked!” by the Babla. Apparently the Khoji’s backup plan had always been to flee to the east – into the forest that bordered the agents’ campsite. The Babla fighters pursued the fleeing Khoji. It was unclear whether the Babla were driven by vengeance or hatred or bloodlust, but they chased down the Khoji despite the fact that they’d clearly trounced their best fighters in battle.

The team had just moments to make some decisions. They would have to evacuate their campsite since the Khoji refugees were practically bringing the Babla to their doorstep. The team didn’t want to be mistaken for Khoji or throw their lot in with them, so following the Khoji into the forest was not advisable. And as strong as their booby traps were, they weren’t going to fend of hordes of Babla fighters. A dozen or so, maybe – but the last scouting mission indicated that a lot more than that were heading their way. The Babla appeared to be out for blood, ready to bludgeon any Khoji they found. 

“We’ll go south,” Coulson ordered. From their mapping mission a few years ago, they knew the terrain to the south didn’t have any natural barriers and disguises like a forest did, but if most of the Babla were going into the forest, then they wouldn’t need them. Right now they needed to put some distance between themselves and the bloodthirsty Babla, and stay out of the crossfire. 

The ground rumbled with the sounds of approaching masses. Khoji women and children screamed and cried. Babla warriors let out loud war woops. Living outdoors meant that sounds traveled far and fast. Both toddlers began to cry with fear at the unfamiliar and terrifying sounds of the approaching masses.

Coulson assigned various team members to push the carts with all of their supplies, and others to bring up the rear with weapons in hand, ready to fend off any Babla who followed them. Young Lance and Rory continued to cry as they were securely placed inside the carts. Coulson then looked at Fitz and Simmons.

“Can you walk?” he asked her, suspecting the answer would be no. Fitz was looking remarkably calm, helping Jemma stand while keeping one eye on the cart that Rory had just been placed into.

Jemma’s face went pale. “My water just broke,” she said. 

Mack came up to them. “We’re going to have to move fast. And the carts are already really heavy to push.” He looked at Jemma. “May I carry you? I think that might be fastest.”

The sounds of the survivors trampling the ground as they fled the angry warriors continued to grow louder. 

“Yes,” Jemma answered. She reached for Fitz and they quickly brushed their lips together. Mack then gently but powerfully hoisted Jemma into his arms. Fitz went to his station: he was one of those charged with pushing the carts. 

“Let’s move out!” Coulson ordered.

 

***

In the ensuring chaos, it was hard to keep track of what exactly was happening. Fitz heard the wrenching sounds of Rory wailing - sometimes joined by little Lance – against his own heartbeat, the creaking of the cart wheels, his own breathing and exertion, various pounding footsteps, and the team occasionally shouting orders to each other, trying to stay together while moving quickly across the open plains.

Every now and then Fitz heard Jemma cry out. He instinctively knew where Mack was, Jemma still in his arms. He thought that despite the bedlam, and the absence of a watch or phone, Jemma still was likely timing her contractions and trying to note when the next would start.

Part of Fitz hated that he was not physically strong enough to carry Jemma and that Mack had to do it. But he brushed that fleeting thought aside easily. Jemma loved him for who he was, and right now he had a job to do. Working alongside Yo-Yo, he had to keep the cart moving quickly, keep one eye on Rory, the other on Jemma, and a third on the team’s positioning overall. 

“We got company!” he heard Bobbi yell.

A few men seemed to be in pursuit. It was too hard to tell at this distance if they were Babla or Khoji – but they were armed and whoever they were, they had come fresh from a battle. Coulson pointed, directing Hunter, May, Davis, Piper, and Deke in the direction of their pursuers. The rest of the team continued their retreat. 

Fitz continued to focus on his work. His ears pounded, but in a split second he noticed a change: Rory was no longer wailing. He looked in the cart. Rory was still there, still breathing – but perhaps exhausted. It was too much for the little guy. Fitz wished more than anything that he could pick him up and comfort him, but he knew they could not stop.

“They’re back!” he heard Coulson say some time later (a few minutes? Half an hour?). Hunter, May, Davis, Piper, and Deke had returned, minus several arrows. May appeared to be injured and Hunter was helping her walk – but otherwise they were fine.

“We have to keep moving,” Hunter breathed. “I don’t think we saw the last of them.”

 

*** 

Mack was a strong man, but right now his arms, back, and legs were reaching their limit. He tried to move swiftly and not jostle Jemma any more than necessary. He knew it had to be exhausting for her as well, keeping her arms clasped around him while enduring the pain of contractions. If he hadn’t been so weary himself, he would’ve silently praised her fortitude. 

Mack was just debating when to stop and ask that they place Jemma inside one of the carts when he saw something on the horizon. He heard Daisy ask, “What’s that?”

As far as Mack could tell, it looked like a house. A large house, made of wood. Coulson ordered Daisy and Davis to scout ahead. Mack gently set Jemma down, and the carts were halted. Fitz rushed over to Jemma to help her stand.

“How are you?” Fitz asked her.

“I have to push,” she rasped, grasping onto Fitz. “But Rory,” she managed. “I’ll be fine, please go comfort Rory.”

Coulson stood nearby and nodded to Fitz. Jemma needed support to stand, so Coulson held onto Jemma as Fitz tended to the boy. Fitz pulled Rory out of the cart, just as Bobbi did the same with her son. Rory began a new round of crying. Fitz whispered to him gently, holding and softly rocking him.

“Simmons?” Coulson asked as he held her.

“I don’t know if I can go on,” she breathed. “I have to push.”

“Maybe we can make our stand at…that house,” he said, but let his voice trail off. What was a house doing in the middle of an open prairie? The team hadn’t seen a soul since the handful of Babla who had pursued them (and had been soundly defeated).

“Doesn’t look like anyone else is pursuing us,” Mack said, the confusion on his own face reflected in Coulson’s. “Maybe we can make a stand here.”

As the house was big, it took Daisy and Davis a while to report back. “It’s empty,” she said. “As far as we can tell, it’s safe. In decent condition other than smelling moldy.” She paused, “And no – we have no clue why there’s an empty house in the middle of nowhere.”

Coulson made the decision. “As good a place as any. Let’s go in.”

***

Fitz took a deep breath. The level of chaos had been slightly dialed back. The first floor of the house had a large room with a fireplace that someone had lit, so that a comforting glow enveloped the room. Bedding had been retrieved from the carts, and Bobbi and Daisy were helping Jemma settle in by the fire.

Fitz desperately wanted to be with her, but right now he had to get Rory calmed down. He held his son tightly. “Mummy is right there, see?” he whispered. “I’m right here with you. And there’s Lance. We’re going to be okay.”

Rory again seemed “cried out” so he mutely held onto his father. Fitz didn’t like the look of panic he saw in his eyes, but he felt he could soothe him especially if things stayed this quiet. He stroked the boy’s back as he held him.

Yo-Yo touched Fitz’s shoulder. “I’ll find some food for the boys. That will help them.” She began to unpack the food from the carts. Of course the whole team would need to eat, but she figured getting some food into both toddlers would be of immense help.

Piper and Deke were on guard duty, as Coulson tended to May’s injury as best he could; it was her leg again. Mack lit one of the precious lanterns; that plus the fireplace would be the only source of light right now as the sun was rapidly setting. Mack then paced around, trying to get the lay of the land inside this strange house and see what else needed to be done.

And then more time passed. Rory and Lance were fed, and Hunter retrieved blankets from the carts for them. With their bellies full, diapers changed, a place to rest, and ample hugs and kisses from their dads, the exhausted toddlers were pacified enough to go to sleep. 

Fitz now, at long last, felt he could go to Jemma. He approached the women. Jemma lay on her side.

“How is he?” Jemma asked, seeing her husband enter the room. 

“He’s asleep now. He and Lance ate some of the acorn mush and went to bed. He will be okay.” Fitz squatted down and touched his hand to her forehead. “How are you?”

“I’m so glad we’re not on the run,” Jemma managed. “The contractions are close together. I don’t think it will be long.”

Daisy looked around. “I’m going to get some more water. There’s a working pump out back.”

Bobbi rose to her feet. “I’ll go bring you some dinner, Fitz. I know you don’t have an appetite right now but it couldn’t hurt if you ate something. I think it’s acorn mush for everyone tonight!”

As Bobbi and Daisy left the main room, Jemma reached out for one of Fitz’s hands. “How are you?” she asked him tenderly.

“Don’t you worry about me,” he said. “I’m just a bit tired and sore from running and pushing the cart, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“You have a splinter,” Jemma said, looking at the hand she grasped. The light from the fireplace provided enough illumination for her to see it.

Fitz laughed. “The least of the team’s worries right now. Why don’t you just kiss it better and we can – “

Jemma gritted her teeth as she dropped his hand. Another wave of pain was clearly overtaking her. 

“What do you need?” Fitz asked.

“Can you help me squat?” she asked. Fitz hated how thin her voice sounded. “I can’t – I can’t tell how close I am but I almost feel….with just a few good pushes maybe I can get baby out soon.”

“Let’s try it.”

 

***  
Rory woke up to the sounds of a baby crying. “Baby?” he asked his uncle Hunter who was lying down next to him and Lance. The three were holed up in an upstairs room which had been repurposed as a bedroom. Coulson and May were also there, trying to take a rest. Deke had long since passed out in a corner of the room.

“Yes, a baby,” replied an exhausted Hunter. He was exhausted but relieved; a newborn crying had to mean good news. “Just stay here with me for now.” Fitz and Jemma had agreed that Rory was a bit too young to see his mother in labor – he would see her in intense pain and not be able to comprehend it, so they wanted to keep him away from childbirth if possible. Hunter had been trying to simultaneously sleep and watch the boys, though he knew that Davis and Piper would need to be relieved from guard duty soon. He felt guilty for trying to rest; guard duty was not easy or fun, especially after an entire day on the run.

“I want Mummy,” Rory insisted. 

“I know,” Hunter said, scooping him up into his arms and glad that at least Lance remained asleep. “But you need to stay with Uncle Hunter for now. Sorry mate.”

He lay back down, relieved that it appeared that Rory didn’t yet need another diaper change. Small favors.

***

Mack poked his head into the large room where Jemma had just given birth. He hadn’t wanted to intrude but he hadn’t been able to sleep either. He saw Jemma sitting up (someone had found an old, musty cushion in the house for her to rest her back against), holding the baby. Fitz sat next to her. Bobbi and Daisy – like “angels” as Jemma had dreamily called them a minute ago – were cleaning up. 

“You okay?” Mack asked.

Jemma nodded sleepily. “Thank you so much for carrying me,” she murmured. 

“Yes,” Fitz added. “We cannot thank you enough.”

“Anything for you two, Turbo,” Mack shrugged it off. “So the baby looks good?”

“Yes,” Fitz said. He silently noted that he had come a long way from his days of being squeamish. Today he had cut the umbilical cord and done whatever had needed to be done during the birth. “A girl.”

“We’re going to call her Emily,” Jemma said. “I’ve always liked that name.”

“And it sounds good with our last name,” Fitz added. 

Yo-Yo entered the room. She hadn’t been able to sleep either. “Do you need anything?” she asked. 

Jemma thanked her and said no. Between Fitz, Bobbi, and Daisy, she had been well taken care of and knew she had a lot to be grateful for.

Yo-Yo then looked at Mack. “I’m feeling guilty with how long Davis and Piper have been on guard duty. We should relieve them.”

“I could take a shift on guard duty,” Fitz offered. He felt torn between his duty to Jemma, to Rory, and to the team. 

“I don’t think we need more than two,” Mack said. “Yo-Yo and I---“

At that moment, he was cut off as Piper ran inside the house. “At least a dozen people heading his way!” she yelled. “Fighters!”

“Not refugees,” Davis added, running in after her. “Heavily armed and on the warpath!” He added, “It’s dark and we don’t know how many, but from the noise at least a dozen.”

“Everyone grab your weapons!” Mack bellowed. He ran upstairs to alert the others.

Fitz and Jemma looked at each other, eyes wide. “I should go,” he said.

“No!” Jemma said. “Someone needs to stay with the boys.”

Fitz looked at Jemma and Emily, and then looked towards the staircase leading to where the boys were. The clatter and clanging of team members running about and grabbing weapons sounded throughout the house.

“How about I bring them here for now?” Fitz asked. “If there are over a dozen warriors coming this way, we need all the defense we can get. My hand-eye coordination isn’t the best but I did okay in target practice.”

Jemma nodded. “Okay.” She kissed him, and he ran upstairs.

 

***

The team stood outside to face the warriors who were charging at them, each with weapon in hand. Coulson shouted orders as to who should position themselves where. Each was tired and sore, but ready for a battle. He didn’t like that the injured May was there, but she had insisted.

As Davis had said, it was dark and hard to get an exact count of how many fighters were approaching, but from the noise there likely was more than a dozen.

And then suddenly the warriors stopped. They froze in place. Many of them were mid-stride, weapons raised, but they simply stopped. They went quiet too; not a sound emanated from any of them. Seconds plodded by and the would-be attackers remained frozen, as if someone had pressed ‘pause’ on a video.

“Um….” Daisy began, confused. “Is this a new form of Tai Chi?”

“What the hell?” Coulson asked.

And then suddenly a man appeared out of thin air. The darkness made it hard to see him, but he was dressed in something the team hadn’t seen anyone else wear for years: a suit. He was bald, Caucasian, and clean.

“Hello,” he began. “My name is Lamech.”

Coulson walked up to him. “You’re a Chronicom like Enoch,” he stated flatly.

“Yes. I can explain everything.”

“Please. Go ahead,” Coulson said, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. He was relieved that the immediate threat from the Babla warriors appeared to be over, but not looking forward to what Lamech was about to say.

Coulson put his spear down. The rest of the team circled around Lamech and Coulson heard someone grumble, ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

“As you will recall,” Lamech began, “Enoch sent many of you into the future in order to prevent an extinction-level event. Our protocol permits interference when the stakes are that high. After Enoch was terminated, the duty of following your progress fell to me. I have spent centuries studying human psychology, and upon observing you for several days after you returned to your present time, I believed that you would not be able to prevent the extinction-level event in your current mental states. Thus I intervened to send you to a setting where I believed you would be able to resolve much of your mental trauma.”

“Well, thank you very much,” Fitz said, his eyes flashing. “As you can see, we have two terrified toddlers, a newborn baby, and a couple dozen warriors who want to kill us for no reason. And we’re lucky that we didn’t lose Jemma or Bobbi in childbirth. Very restful.” 

“And I haven’t had sex for like three years!” Deke added. 

Daisy punched Deke’s arm. She needed to punch something.

“True, but remember that the Khoji were able to cure Coulson,” Lamech said calmly. “Had he not been cured, this would have been severely traumatic for all of you. I should also add that my intention was to leave you here as long as you needed to work through your traumas. It was a tranquil setting, and you have made excellent progress. However, I failed to predict that the Khoji would become this unstable, making bad decisions and ending up in a war.”

“Yeah, you might want to spend a few more centuries studying psychology,” Coulson suggested. “Should I even ask where and when we are?”

“You are – well, ‘a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away’.”

“Nice,” May quipped, looking at her husband. “This guy has a sense of humor. Can we kill him?”

“I sense that you are joking and will indeed do me no harm,” Lamech stated. “My psychology studies have taught me that, at least.”

“You’re playing God in people’s lives,” Mack growled, trying – as everyone else was – to keep a handle on his anger. 

“I am sorry. I understand that this must be disturbing. But bear in mind that this team is special. The fate of the world is at your feet. And you needed to get out of the setting you were in, in order to have any chance at saving your planet.” Lamech paused and added, “I had predicted you would be furious. I must admit that that is one reason that I….did not appear sooner. I truly hope that the fact that the Khoji cured your leader will at least partially redeem me in your eyes.”

Coulson let out a bemused laugh. “We do have to give you at least a few points for that.” He tried to choose his words carefully. Although he doubted that Lamech would simply disappear, he did understand that he was their ticket home. And the admission Lamech had made just now – about why he hadn’t appeared sooner – gave Coulson another reason to proceed with caution. “So let me guess. You can return us to the day we left.”

“Yes.”

Coulson looked around. He saw Fitz looking particularly agitated, probably because Jemma was missing all of this. “Lamech, may we have a moment? Come inside with us.”

“Of course.”

“I assume our Babla friends will remain frozen?”

“Yes.”

***

Jemma was quickly brought up to speed. Exhausted from childbirth, holding her newborn, trying to calm two toddlers, and worried out of her mind for Fitz on the battlefield, Jemma was simply too relieved to be angry. However she observed that many of her teammates did not feel the same way and were fighting back their fury at having been moved around like pawns.

“So, that’s the story,” Fitz said, after having brought Jemma up to speed. He was sitting on the floor next to his wife, holding Rory in his arms. Rory was once again starting to calm down.

“Well, this is a no-brainer, right?” Mack asked. “As much fun as our years-long camping trip has been, we need to go back.”

Bobbi stepped forward. “I think so, but….we have three children here, and another on the way.” She looked at Hunter. “We can’t just go back to the thick of the battle. I mean, I know Hunter and I were lying low during it anyway but now we got this little guy. Having us rejoin the team is out of the question.”

Fitz and Jemma looked at each other. As the others buzzed about and discussed the situation, Jemma held Emily tighter.

“Well, we didn’t intend to have these two so soon, but they are here,” she said quietly to Fitz. “We cannot bring them back to the kind of life we lived before.”

Fitz nodded. “Our children will not be orphans,” he whispered passionately. “And I won’t be like my father, abandoning my family when they need me.”

Hunter approached them. “Pardon me for intruding,” he said. “But why don’t you come to Bangladesh with me and Bob? We have a pretty good gig there, a nice hidy-hole.”

Daisy then made her way towards the couple. “Actually,” she began hesitantly, “if I may intrude….I don’t think we can save the planet without your brains. I mean, I know your kids have got to be safe, but the two of you have gotten us out of almost every jam we’ve ever gotten in to.”

“Yes,” Jemma acknowledged. “But Daisy, back at home we have things like encrypted lines and live video feeds.” She wanted to add, ‘If we can remember how to use them,’ but didn’t. She knew the knowledge would return. She then insisted, “We can help you remotely.”

“Some of the work you do can’t be done without you being physically present,” Coulson stepped in to say. He was going to add an apology for intruding as well, but it was clear that the entire team would be impacted by whatever FitzSimmons decided. “We need you.”

“And you will have us,” Fitz said firmly. “Remote from Bangladesh.” His tone left no room for debate, and Jemma’s heart swelled with pride at how Fitz stood up to Coulson.

Fitz added, his voice softer, “I’m sorry but we can’t put these two at risk. And it’s not like we can just drop them off with Jemma’s parents and say goodbye. I’d rather cut my arm off.”

“Me too,” Jemma said. And despite the chaos of the moment, she felt a flash of pain at the mention of her parents. They had missed so many of her life’s milestones. How would she ensure the same didn’t happen with her own children, while still letting them spread their wings and pursue what they wanted to pursue? She tried to put that quandary out of her mind for now. First they had to get back to their time and place, and get the kids out of diapers. Then she could worry about staying connected with them when they became adults. And who knew, maybe once they were back she could somehow get in touch with her parents? One thing at a time.

“Okay,” Coulson said. “We’ll take what we can get.” He silently resolved that perhaps when needed, they could find a way to get Fitz or Simmons ‘live and in person’ at times. Maybe they could find a better hideout for FitzSimmons closer to the Lighthouse. And for Hunter and Bobbi too, if they wanted. 

Coulson looked around at the team. “So we’re in agreement, then? Bobbi, Hunter, FitzSimmons and the kids will go back to the hideout in Bangladesh, and the rest of us go back to the Lighthouse?”

The team was in agreement. Some were still in shock, but there was agreement. 

“So this means we’ll be able to drink ice cold beer again!” Yo-Yo exclaimed.

“And watch a movie,” Daisy added. 

“Eat a burger,” Coulson said, as Fitz turned to Jemma and added, “The prosciutto sandwich,” and Jemma capped it off with the words, “just a hint of aioli.”

Hunter then put an arm around Bobbi and added, “And we can shag as loudly as we want to without worrying about anyone overhearing us!”

“Although you never seemed to worry about that here anyway,” Mack muttered at them.

“Are you ready?” Lamech asked the team.

Fitz and Jemma smiled at each other and squeezed Rory and Emily tightly. 

**Epilogue to Follow**


	13. Epilogue

It was fortunate that Fitz and Jemma had become used to their lives as a whirlwind. Upon their return to Earth in the present time, their first 48 hours were taken up with procuring fake IDs and disguises, getting Rory and Emily proper medical care including vaccinations, and getting their hands on sundry supplies - everything from items for the children to technological equipment so they could be in almost constant contact with the rest of the team. 

“And then there’s the culture shock,” Bobbi summed up. The four adults were sitting together after an exhausting day of errands and catching up. As Hunter had promised, their hideout was well-appointed and spacious. All three children were thankfully asleep. The couples had just finished dinner, but as with every meal upon their return, they had to tread carefully with food that was so different than what they had been eating for the past few years. 

“So much noise,” Jemma said, her eyes closed as vivid images played behind her lids. “So many people. And so many bright colors, not just greens and browns.”

“And us having to play it cool because the boys have never been around so many people in their lives before,” Fitz added. He took another swig of his cold pint. He hadn’t been able to sleep the night before between Emily crying and his body’s normal rhythms just being off. He reached one hand around to rub at his stiff neck. Jemma, her eyes open now, saw what he was doing and started as if to get up and massage his neck for him, but he shook his head. She needed to rest and just enjoy her tea. Gin would have to wait until she was no longer breastfeeding. 

“The boys did remarkably well,” Hunter said. “I think we just had one tantrum from each today, so I count that as a win.”

“Children can be so adaptable,” Jemma mused. “I wonder if Rory and Lance will have any memories of…the other place. Probably subconscious only.”

“We’re going to have to tell them about it,” Hunter said. “Hope they believe us. It’s not like we have any pictures or video to share of it.”

“I wonder when it will start to feel like just a dream to us,” Bobbi added. She took another sip of her seltzer water. 

“I miss the others,” Fitz said wistfully. “I liked sitting around the fire with everyone at the end of the day.”

“This will have to do for now,” Hunter commented. “We can make sitting around here our after-dinner thing – but with no fire or fireplace. Too bloody humid here for that.” He suppressed a belch; his system wasn’t used to carbonated beverages. “I’ll take a cold pint over the fire pit right now.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever be too far from the others,” Jemma added. She then took a quick look into the living room, which was filled with the new equipment they’d purchased. A steady hum emanated from the room. “Especially since we now can have a constant live feed into each other’s hideouts.”

“And maybe Coulson will do as he said and find a hideout for us closer to where they are,” Bobbi remarked. “I’m with Jemma; we’re never going to be too far from the others.”

“We’ll just have to balance being there for the team and raising the children,” Fitz said. “Keeping the children safe while doing our part to…to prevent an extinction-level event.” The thought was a bit overwhelming after a few years where their main concerns had been on a different scale.

“We also have to find some way to make money,” Jemma said, shaking her head. “We can’t exactly forage for mushrooms and purslane here.”

“I told you, mates, relax,” Hunter said firmly, spreading his hands out. “Bobbi and I have a decent nest egg here. Put making money as like number 173 on your ‘to do’ list.”

“He’s right,” Bobbi said. “And don’t forget we now have that special credit card that Daisy put together. Coulson would tell us to focus on priorities. Kids first, helping the team second, and then just let the rest of the pieces fall into place.”

As if on cue, the communication device beeped loudly; they were needed by the team. And a second later, Emily began to cry.

Fitz and Jemma exchanged a look. “Part of us might just miss those quiet nights under the stars,” she said softly, touching a hand to his thigh.

He wanted to say something more: that he almost didn’t care where they were as long as they were together. But between the cries of Emily and the cries of the communications device, it didn’t feel like the time was right. And besides, he knew she felt the exact same way and he didn’t need to say the words.

 

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again to everyone who has left comments or kudos.
> 
> And an extra big thank you to the best beta-testers one could hope for: JaneDoh7 and LibbyWeasley!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @Jemleofan


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